Dodge and Burn
by abstract way
Summary: He assumed Isabella Swan was eccentric, yet that very fact intrigued him. He hadn't dealt with a compelling person, sensible or colorful in quite a while. She just seemed ripe with possibilities to be anything but mundane.
1. Chapter 1 The Gilded Frame

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author, abstract way.© 2012 abstract way.

_**Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy**_

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_These characters are a part of me and I'm honored to share them with you._

_In writing Dodge and Burn I want my daughter to understand that although there are legacies worth fighting for, sometimes there are legacies you must rise up and fight against. This story is for her._

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter One / The Gilded Frame**

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He assumed Isabella Swan was eccentric, yet that very fact intrigued him. He hadn't dealt with a compelling person, sensible or colorful in quite a while. She just seemed ripe with possibilities to be anything but mundane.

..~*~..

The phone rings just past ten on a Thursday evening. He can't remember the last time his phone rang that late. It's startling, like that moment someone's foot accidentally slips off the brake as they barrel down the street toward another car. What can one do but fear the worst? Bad news is usually delivered in the most unexpected ways.

So with his silence shattered and his predictable evening now turned on its side, Edward moves toward his ringing phone. His heart staccatos as he lifts up the receiver and dread wraps tightly around him.

"Yes?"

"Yes!" a lilting voice echoes back. "Is this_ the_ Mr. Cullen?"

It occurs to him that if this is a solicitor insisting that he get his carpets cleaned or donate to the policeman's fund then her marketing technique and timing is quite unorthodox.

"Excuse me?"

"The _extraordinary _Mr. Cullen?"

"Extraordinary?"

"Yes, the musician who performed for an engagement party in Hancock Park last week?"

The woman has an expressive voice that makes her age or origins hard to place. He can't help but be curious.

He re-checks his watch. Is he really getting a business call this late at night? He shakes his head, wondering who gave this Suzie Sunshine his phone number.

"Yes, this is Edward Cullen," he replies with his professional tone. "And you are?"

"My name is Isabella Swan, Mr. Cullen, and I need your help."

"Do you always call complete strangers this late at night?"

"Is it late? Oh, dear…I hadn't noticed. I guess since I've had this idea, I've never felt so awake." She takes a sharp breath. "So, about what I need from you…"

He jogs through his memory of that night trying to recall meeting an Isabella but no one comes to mind.

"I'm sorry…did we meet at the party?"

"No, I wasn't actually at the party, but I was certainly there." She laughs softly. "Probably more_ there_ than the other guests. I listened, enraptured, to every song you sang."

Her voice is happy, almost playful, and he wonders if this is someone's misguided idea of a joke.

He pauses for a moment, considering hanging up. But a nagging curiosity keeps the phone glued to his hand.

"How does that work exactly, being there but not?"

"I live in the house behind the Randall's. I was reading in my backyard when you began to sing."

He's relieved; his concerns about her legitimacy have been put to rest. Her explanation seems plausible. He was playing in the backyard in an urban neighborhood where the houses are fairly close together.

"Ah, I see. And you enjoyed the music?"

"Enjoyed? How can I explain this?" she asks herself out loud.

There is a long pause and the longer he waits the more curious he becomes. Just before he speaks to fill the silence, she suddenly lets out a long sigh.

"I want you to picture a woman curled up on a garden swing. Her head is tilted up towards where the music travels over the fence. Her hands are clasped against her sweater just over her heart.

_Is this woman serious?_

"Are you still with me, Mr. Cullen?"

"Still here," he responds, smiling to himself. He has to admit, she may be unusual, but at least it's in a rather dazzling way. She must be an actress.

She takes a deep breath and continues.

"This woman's book, long forgotten, has tumbled to the damp grass. Her fine glass of wine, having only been tamed with a few savored sips, has been abandoned. There is something in this man's voice and notes that makes her remember the way it felt to be adored."

_Obviously she's playing with him. He's impressed with her commitment to being theatrical. Well, he can be dramatic, too._

"All that? And were there tears?" he asks gently.

She doesn't seem offended, but takes the cue and runs with it.

"Copious tears and so much longing." She sighs loud enough for him to hear. "It made her long for the way a lover's protective hand would rest against her lower back as they walked into a strange room. Everyone understanding in the gesture that she belonged to him, that they belonged to each other."

Despite her melodramatic performance, something in that image rocks him. He remembers being that man once, having a woman he loved enough to claim as his.

_It's peculiar. Her tone sounds so genuine, but she can't be serious with this stuff._

"Well, I'm very…"

"Your music transformed me, Mr. Cullen."

"But, you realize…"

"Yes, I recognized the songs. It wasn't the songs; it was your voice and the barely contained emotion as you sang. I was undone for days."

She seems to be serious, and doesn't sound intoxicated. He's stunned into silence.

"And the problem is that when you finished your third set, and packed up your guitar, I think you took a piece of my soul with you. And I'd like it back please."

He smiles. He sang a lot of love songs that night, being an engagement party and all. The very idea of love does strange things to people.

"Well, that's a first. Thank you, I think."

"I have an idea how to resolve this issue. I've decided to hire you to play for me. I'm so excited about the idea that you must say yes. Please say yes."

"You mean a private performance?"

"Yes, just me."

"But you don't even know what I cost."

"I'm sure we can work it out. It'll be worth it, whatever you decide."

"I'm very flattered, Ms. Swan, but I don't really do this kind of thing. I retired years ago from playing gigs. I played for the party because the Randalls are old family friends."

"Old friends?" she considers. "Well, I can be your new friend. It's always wonderful to make new friends-especially when they appreciate your talent the way I do yours."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not looking for a new friend. Besides, you don't even know me," he says.

"I know all I need to. You're an old soul, an artist with a heavy heart. I learned everything I wanted to understand in your voice."

"Have you been reading the Bronte sisters or something? I'm really not nearly as romantically deep and tragic as you've imagined. I'm just a guy with a guitar."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that? How's Sunday afternoon?" she asks.

"No, I really can't…"

"Saturday, Thursday, or any day. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

_Damn, she's persistent._

"I'd like to think about it."

"Artists search for that one person in the crowd that really gets them. I get you. What if I'm _your_ audience?"

_What if?_ he thinks to himself. He can't imagine what difference it would make in the simple, stark life he has folded himself into.

"So go ahead and think about it," she encourages. "I'll tell you what, here's my number. When you are ready-really ready to be heard, give me a call."

He pulls the pad toward him and carefully writes out her name and number. His writing is surprisingly legible considering his trepidation. He mindlessly doodles around her name while he considers what to say next. She beats him to the punch.

"And, Mr. Cullen…I'll try to wait patiently, but don't be surprised if I call again," she warns.

Apparently she means business.

"I'm pretty sure nothing about you would surprise me, Ms. Swan."

"See there, you understand me. I just knew you would."

He says goodnight and sets the phone back onto the desk. Her presence lingers, and for a moment, the sudden silence feels completely wrong. His head falls back as he closes his eyes and one of his earliest memories suddenly flickers brightly behind his eyelids. It's Christmas and he's about four. His mom has brought him by the hand to their living room. The room lights are dim, just enough to make out the faint glow of the foil-paper wrapped gifts under the tree.

"Are you ready, little man?" she asks excitedly.

He remembers nodding, as his small hand tightens inside her bigger one.

"Okay, Carlisle," she says.

He watches his dad bend over close to the wall with something in his hand. In the next moment a million brilliant lights sparkle all over the Christmas tree.

He claps his hands with delight, and his mom pulls him close.

"Isn't it magical, Edward?" she asks.

He nods, squinting his young eyes so all the colors blur together, and all these years later he still sees every glowing hue as he opens his grown-up eyes again.

He smiles widely and once again thinks of Isabella Swan and a million brilliant lights.

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..~*~..

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So I got an unexpected call last night," he offers as Jasper slides the beer across the bar.

"Did you win the lottery?" he asks, wiping the counter down.

He gives Jasper an exasperated look. "No, I got a late night call from a woman who wants to hire me for a private performance."

"She's going to pay you for sex? Cool."

"Not that kind of performance," he says, shaking his head.

"Too bad, cause that sounds promising. You could earn some extra cash and finally get laid."

"Thanks for the encouragement," he replies. "No, it's guitar playing and singing…that kind of performance."

"Naked? Like that guy in the cowboy hat that plays in Times Square?"

Jasper's brain's hanging low tonight, between his legs, it seems.

"He's not naked; he wears his underwear. Besides, she didn't mention attire. If this gig was performing naked I'm pretty sure she would've said so," Edward replies, smirking.

"I thought you didn't perform anymore. Hey, if you're getting back into it, I'll get Sam to work you into the club schedule. You want me to talk to him?"

"No, I don't want to play for anybody, thanks. That's my problem."

"You lost me," Jasper says, leaning forward on his elbow.

He takes a long sip from his Guinness. "I don't want to do the gig but I'm curious, you know?"

Jasper nods his head. "About the woman."

"Yes, about the woman. Ms. Isabella Swan is her name."

"Ms. Isabella, huh?" Jasper grins.

Edward nods, a nervousness of the unknown rumbling deep inside.

"Well, Cullen, it looks like it's time to tune your guitar."

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..~*~..

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His phone rings and when he sees the number on the call screen, he smirks. He lets it ring and only picks up right before it goes to voicemail. She's one impatient woman.

"Yes?"

"Do you like banana bread, Mr. C?"

_What the hell?_

He takes a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten Ms. Swan's peculiar ways.

"Banana bread? I guess so, why?"

"You know…I have these bananas."

_Oh Jesus._ "Yes?"

"And they're looking pretty ripe. So I thought I'd bake some banana bread. Will you come play for me if I bake you some banana bread?"

"Is that my payment?"

"No, that's your pleasure," she assures him.

He pauses, fighting the overwhelming sensation to make an excuse, quickly get off the phone, and then figure out how to block calls. Yet some inexplicable force keeps him there, so he teases her instead.

"Will there be cream cheese?"

"Oh, of course! There couldn't be banana bread without cream cheese."

"The soft kind, not those nasty white rectangles that you can't spread."

"I'll make sure it's very soft," she says enthusiastically, sounding hopeful.

"I don't know…"

"Warm, freshly baked ban-an-a-bread, Mr. Cullen," she says in a breathy voice. "Need I really say more?"

"All right, you've worn me down. When?"

"Well, right away. We wouldn't want the bananas to get too brown or anything."

_She sounds so damn happy_.

"So, are we talking tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yes, tomorrow would be lovely. How about later afternoon, when the sun is just skimming over the birch trees?"

_How the hell would I know when the sun skims over her trees?_ Deep breath.

"How about five thirty?" he asks.

"Perfect."

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..~*~..

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Pulling off his sunglasses, he looks at the piece of paper where he copied her address down and double checks. He shakes his head, puts the car in park and turns off the ignition.

He can only imagine what the residents of this Hancock Park neighborhood think of the bizarre menagerie his new client, Ms. Swan, has made of her front yard. There must have been a clearance sale at wherever people with dubious taste buy their garden accessories.

He scans just beyond the raggedy picket fence barely holding up climbing roses in various states of bloom. Along the yard's untamed periphery he sees a number of reflective spheres in various sizes, fancy looking birdbaths, two fountains and a small community of vintage garden statuary. One stone gray fallen angel has a small child's crown with colorful plastic jewels perched on her head. In the center of the yard is a large homemade swing dangling from the limb of a large Sycamore tree. Vines and bits of twigs wind up the ropes. It looks like a prop from margarine commercial.

It occurs to him that his new client is a woman that lives alone, or at least not with a man. No husband would tolerate this yard unless he's blind or so deep in the closet that he never found his way out.

He gets out of his car, and takes his guitar out of the trunk with reluctance. As he works his way up the walkway, he begins to imagine the worst. What if she's one of those freaky old ladies that hoards used shopping bags and the cotton from pill bottles? From the looks of her yard, it's safe to assume that she probably has an extensive doll collection and dolls creep him out. What if she's lured him here under false pretenses, like the witch in Hansel and Gretel, and she actually plans to sedate him, chain him to a bed, fatten him up then cook him in a huge pot over an open flame?

As he approaches the front porch, he looks up to see that she has Christmas lights strung zig-zag across the porch ceiling. That would be charming in December, but in June, it's just odd. The front door is turquoise with a lime green trim.

_Come on, this is two hours out of an otherwise forgetful day—you can handle it. _

With any luck he'll leave with an interesting story to tell Jasper at the bar tonight. He takes a deep breath, admonishes himself for his psychotic ramblings, and rings the bell.

Moments later the door swings open dramatically and at first all he sees is a swirl of color. His eyes land on one of those gauzy, flowing hippy skirts that contain every single color known to man. It makes his eyes hurt. It makes him wish he hadn't left his sunglasses in his car.

It's topped with a bright red t-shirt. He imagines this is an outfit one would wear to cross the lollipop bridge in Candy Land. Thank God they're meeting in her fairyland home and not out in public.

He finally allows himself to look up at her face and is surprised not to see beady eyes and a hooked witch's nose. She has a friendly face, pretty actually, graced by a warm smile. Just like him, she's neither young, nor old, but somewhere in the middle.

Her eyes widen as she studies him.

It suddenly occurs to him that she looks as taken aback by him as he is by her.

"Oh my," she says, looking surprised. She then laughs to herself.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"Well, I just wasn't expecting you to be so handsome," she explains, biting her lip to hold back a smile.

This uncensored proclamation surprises him. He knows he was once considered handsome but he'd imagined that had faded, along with some of the other advantages of his youth.

"Well, I appreciate the compliment but does it matter what I look like?"

"It'll be very distracting," she offers. She chews on the edge of her thumb as she considers how to explain. "Have you been to the D'Orsay museum in Paris?"

"No, can't say that I have," he replies. He waits patiently for her to connect the puzzling dots of her random thought process and let him in the house.

"Oh, you must go!" she announces dramatically, her hands moving in circles like tiny windmills. "You're a musician…an artist. It'll inspire you."

He nods, amused that she seems to think she already understands what he needs. "I'll add it to my bucket list," he says agreeably, hoping to get the story back on track. The sooner they get started, the sooner he gets to leave.

She smiles warmly at him. "So, as I was saying, the first time I was at the D'Orsay I was quivering from head to toe because I was finally going to see so many of my favorite impressionist paintings that I had studied in books for years. But as I approached each masterpiece I could barely focus on the painting because each one had the most bright gold, elaborate gilded frames around it."

_She has an issue with overdone gilded frames? This from the woman wearing a rainbow for a skirt._

_She's going to exhaust me; I just know it. And I'm not even in the house yet._

"I was distracted and couldn't feel the art the way I'd hoped to," she says, pulling on one of her wavy strands of auburn hair.

With raised brows she gives him a knowing look like they had just spoken a rare Hindu dialect to each other and understood each other perfectly. While he tries to decide if he's going to run for the hills or weather this out, he continues to engage her. "So did you leave the museum?"

She grins playfully as she gives him a sideways glance. "No, actually I went to the museum café and had a lovely glass of Pinot Noir. Halfway through I gave myself quite a little talking to and decided to get over the frames."

_I wouldn't be surprised it this conversation with herself happened out loud, thus giving the French just another reason to detest Americans._

"And how did that work out for you?" His blank expression belies his inner wonder.

"After that I relaxed and was able to experience the artwork as I'd hoped to. I stood closer and it blocked the frames out of my field of vision. Besides, that way you get to see the brushstrokes filled with every color."

_And in that moment her preference for overly colorful skirts was born._

"Well, there you go," he encourages her. "I'll tell you what. Feel free to drink wine while I play for you."

She smiles, giving him a knowing look as if she already understands he thinks she's eccentric.

"And you could even turn your chair away from me, or hang a curtain between us."

"That won't be necessary," she teases. "You aren't _that_ good looking, Mr. Cullen."

She reaches out her hand to shake his like it's suddenly time to be formally introduced. There's a colorful stack of bracelets around her wrist and they make tiny percussion sounds whenever she moves.

"So, welcome to my home. I'm looking forward to hearing you play again."

Relieved at this move towards professionalism, he stands a bit straighter and nods like a gentleman as their hands move together.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Swan." Her hand is warm and strong, her handshake confident.

"Likewise. And please call me Bella, or Isabella if you prefer." She starts to pull the door open wider, then pauses, considering something.

"Before we start, please assure me that you aren't charming, too." She actually looks concerned.

He rolls his eyes and scowls.

"I can absolutely assure you that there is nothing charming about me. As a matter of fact, most people that know me say I'm an ass."

"Well, that's a relief." She lets out a long sigh.

"And why would that be a relief?"

"Because I already know you're an amazing musician, and handsome…so if you were charming too it would just be too much. I'm sure I'd fall hopelessly in love with you." She glances down at his wedding ring. "And that just wouldn't do."

He looks down at the burnished gold band, resting heavy on his finger.

"Well then, you have nothing to worry about. Do you still want to do this?"

She looks up at him, really studies him, and he can see a million ideas flickering through her mind. There's something so unsettling about this woman. It's as if she has something he needs but he has no idea what it is. Part of him wants her to turn him away.

Her expression suddenly brightens like the clouds just swept past them. "Yes, yes! Let's try it!" She swings the door open wide.

He hesitates for a second, as if somewhere in the deep trenches of his mind he understands that once he crosses this threshold, his life will change in unpredictable ways. He wonders if he should just head back to his quiet apartment? Or is this colorful break from the day-to-day monotony just what he needs?

Her hand sweeps up and waves him forward. He's suddenly hooked above the gut, that soft spot close to the heart where no common sense can be traced. He feels a gentle pull as the invisible line reels him in.

He takes a deep breath, lifts up his guitar case and steps inside.

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_So what do you say? Shall we meet every Saturday?...that's kinda been our thing. :-) _

_Thanks so much for stopping by...It makes it all worthwhile.  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Join me on Twitter: #!/ abstractway_


	2. Chapter 2 Old School

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena, Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Two / Old School**

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Isabella's heart's fluttering as Edward enters her home. She wonders about his perceiving her as off-kilter. After all...she's engaging him to do a private concert for a woman he's never met, playing music she only heard by accident on a warm spring night.

_Yet, oh…the thrill of it_! She can hardly contain her excitement.

All week she'd made a game out of guessing what he looked like: short and stout or tall and skinny, flaming red hair or no hair, a couch potato or an athlete's build, sporting either a goatee or maybe a long beard. The possibilities were endless. For some reason, she didn't expect this: tall and handsome, a short mane of wild hair, and intense blue eyes that tell a story without speaking.

He looks apprehensive, not sure if she's a dubious sort or not, but has convinced himself to come inside anyway. She gives him a moment for his eyes to adjust. The dark walls from her living room keep the light quiet and scarce.

She studies him while he takes in her world, worn chairs filled with elaborately embellished pillows, stacks of books everywhere, black and white photos framed on every spare space of wall, and the soft pink light of the cranberry glass lamps.

He's long and sturdy and wears his jeans exceptionally well. She guesses him to be around forty, for although his body looks much younger, the lines around his eyes reveal something else.

She feels his eyes fall on her so she looks up at him directly.

He can tell she's not afraid to show him anything. "Do you collect dolls, Isabella?

She quickly glances around the room trying to imagine why he'd ask that, but her detective skills fail her.

"No, no dolls."

He lets out a deep breath. He seems relieved. _How odd._

"But I do collect doll houses."

He doesn't appear to know what to make of that.

"I like decorating them and imaging that I'm tiny enough to live in them."

The corners of his mouth turn up.

"Do these houses have tiny paintings with fancy gold frames?"

"I believe you know the answer to that," she teases. "And I must admit, there's almost nothing I like better than a tiny painting."

"Really? I prefer paintings that are really, really big."

"How big?" she challenges.

"So big that they wouldn't fit in this room," he replies, sweeping his arm up in a big gesture. "I like the boldness of a big painting, and the audacity of the artist that's implied by creating it. I can't get over the feeling that you can step inside of it." He drops his arm, looking terribly satisfied.

She assumes his intention is to be contrary. "I see," she replies.

The best part is that she can't see-not yet. She likes that she really can't read him and know if he's playing her as a fool. It's a game of cat and mouse that can only make their brief time together more interesting.

He moves his guitar case from one hand to the other. It occurs to her that it would be good form to take care of business first.

She walks up to her mantle and reaches into a squat teal-colored vase. Pulling out a wad of cash, she returns to him, offering it.

"Here we are…your payment for today"

"But I haven't even played for you yet," he points out with a puzzled expression, his free hand remains wedged in the back pocket of his jeans.

"No, but you're going to. Offering to pay first may seem like a leap of faith on my part, but you even showing up here was a bigger leap of faith." She smiles encouragingly.

He studies her expression for a moment and then reaches out and accepts the cash, sliding it down into his pocket. "Thank you."

She nods, and he seems to relax just a bit.

"So on the phone you said you'd already heard my music. Something about hearing it from your yard?"

"Yes, yes, when you played at my neighbor's engagement party."

"Right, because I don't recall seeing you at the party." His eyes crinkle up at the corners as he squints in thought. "I'm sure I would've remembered you."

She takes his arm. "Here, let me show you." She leads him through the house until they pass through the French doors that lead out to the yard. She gestures to a garden swing under a tree.

"As I told you, I was sitting right there last Saturday afternoon reading, completely caught up in the story and not even paying attention to the murmur of people talking just on the other side of my fence. Then suddenly a clear voice, your voice, rose up in song above the drone, and I literally dropped my book."

"Really?" he asks. "I didn't think _anyone_ was actually listening. There was a lot of champagne flowing at that gig. It was a chatty group."

She nods vigorously. "Yes, I listened to both of your sets, even when it meant I was sitting in the dark. It was like my own personal concert. Like you were playing for me."

He doesn't look convinced.

"You think I'm exaggerating?" she asks, sensing his doubt.

"It's not that," he replies. "It's just a first for me. To think I was playing for someone who was so into the music and I had no idea at all."

She smiles, looking satisfied.

"So shall we start?"

"Sure." She nods. "Do you want some water, something to drink?"

"What are you going to have?"

"A bit of wine. Would that suit you?"

"That would suit me just fine." He nods as he puts down his case and opens it.

.

When she returns to the yard with a bottle and two glasses, he's already set up a place for himself. He looks right at home as he tunes his guitar. Her breath catches when she realizes how easily she could get used to this.

She fills his glass and sets it on the table next to him.

He takes a long sip and nods. "Any requests?"

She shakes her head. "Play what you feel like playing."

He sits completely still for a minute, his vision fixed just above the trees. She waits silently, knowing that feeling of rediscovery is right on the edge of her skin. She has the stamina to wait a long time if necessary to once again feel how his playing affected her. It was a sensation of peeling her self open and letting the music soak right through her; letting her heart get so full with the feeling that it barely fit under her ribs.

She settles back on the swing, her colorful skirt falling in waves around her outstretched legs.

He looks down finally, his vision lingering on the exposed stretch of her calves and delicate ankles as the first notes fill the air.

For the first part of the next hour his eyes are closed or turned away, as if watching her reaction to the music is too much for him. In between songs, he sips his wine and observes her, but no words are spoken between them.

She barely moves, only small gestures, brushing away a tear or taking a sip of her wine. But he can tell something powerful is building inside of her and he waits to see if it will be unleashed.

Sure enough, when the music gets bolder and the bottle is near empty she takes flight, slowly gliding and dancing barefoot over the grass as he plays for her. His eyes are watching now, noting the way the late afternoon light illuminates the golden hues of her hair. In this lively moment her colorful skirt seems perfect. She grabs the edges of the gauzy fabric and lifts it as she twirls, all the colors moving together. He thinks of a color wheel spinning at a carnival as you hold your breath—waiting to see when it stops if you've won the prize.

The wine has mellowed him so that he doesn't find her spirited movements strange. Suddenly being in her yard, playing music for her makes absolute sense; she's more audience than an arena full of people. His guitar has never felt so perfect. His fingers caress it like a lover; its curve nestled over the edge of his thigh.

Some time later he realizes that the sun has fallen; the bottle's empty, and she's electric, glowing in the low light.

He finishes with the Beatles. His voice grows soft. She stops dancing to listen with complete focus, sinking to the ground until she's on her knees.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night _

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly _

_All your life _

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise _

_Blackbird fly…blackbird fly…_

_into the dark of the night sky_

She's completely still, with every sense as sharp as a fox. It's as if she hears layers of secret words under his breath. Each note draws her further in.

He can see it, in the beatific look on her face. There is a halo of light surrounding her, burning bright as if the music captured her then set her free.

She is transformed.

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..~*~..

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They haven't spoken, a comfortable silence settling over them. His guitar packed, he tries to gather himself inside her house. He lingers.

"Well then…" he says as he takes a step forward.

She wants to say something, but she looks a bit lost. Then suddenly her eyes light up.

"Ah! I almost forgot your banana bread. Sit down, sit down." She gently pushes him to one of the easy chairs by the kitchen window.

He allows himself to be pushed by her. It feels good.

"Is that what that great smell is?"

She grins. "Yes, I took it out of the oven right before you arrived. I'm going to make you some coffee, too. I think we both could use some." She pushes her hair, now untamed from the dancing, out of her face as she moves through the kitchen.

"Milk and sugar?"

He shakes his head. "Black."

Minutes later she carries over a tray laden with steaming mugs of coffee, and thick slices of the bread smeared with cream cheese. "I brought extra," she points to the bowl of soft, whipped goodness. "In case you like a lot."

"I do," he says, as he watches her add more to his slice.

She scoots back in her easy chair and folds her legs up with her toes curling off the edge of the cushion, wrapping her skirt around her like a cocoon. She watches him take a bite, relaxing when he groans with approval.

"This is delicious, thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. I've wrapped up the rest for you to take home."

"Baking like this might persuade me to come back to play some time."

Her eyes get wide and hopeful.

"I'd love to bake for you again. Do you like brownies? You know…the really chocolate-ey, chewy kind with nuts? My brownies are like having a party in your mouth."

"Oh yeah, I could get behind some chewy brownies."

"I'll get right on that," she assures him. She watches him lick his fingertips. "Does your wife bake?"

He pauses, pulls his finger out of his mouth, and reaches for the napkin to finish the job.

"No, she doesn't."

She can't read his expression.

"Ah, just as well. Everything I bake is fattening. It's probably best to avoid it. I just can't seem to help myself."

She wraps her hands around her calves and pulls them tighter to her body. She watches him take another healthy bite while she sips her coffee.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally asks.

"Anything," she replies.

"It doesn't seem like you have any small kids living here. Why do you have a swing in your front yard?"

"Why, would you like to take a swing?" She grins happily, like she hopes he'll consider it.

_She seems so childlike at times. _

"No, I just was wondering why you have it."

"Oh, because sometimes a good swing is the only thing that will do."

"Yes, of course," he agrees, trying to contain a grin as he pictures her soaring over her front lawn, her skirt leaving a rainbow blur behind her.

"And no, I have no kids at home. My son's grown and out in the world."

He looks up, surprised. She hardly seems old enough to have a kid that old. What in the word would a child of hers be like? It's hard to fathom.

"…and he's not a fan of the swing in the front yard either."

"Really?"

"He's a serious sort."

He nods and suddenly feels too full, as if he can't take anymore of her vividness.

He glances at his watch and stands up, running his hands down the front of his jeans.

"Well, I think I better head out. Thank you for this," he says, gesturing toward the bread. You spoiled me."

"Thank _you_," she says quietly, her expression so sincere. "I'm so blissfully happy, I can't tell you what that meant to me, hearing your music again."

"Ah, well, I enjoyed it."

"Really?"

"I promise. Watching you reminded me how music used to make me feel."

"So you'll come back? You'll play for me again?"

He reaches to grab the last bite of his banana bread and pops it in his mouth. It must be the sweetness, or the buzz left over from the wine, or the magic spell she's cast over him, but he doesn't even hesitate.

"I will."

.

..~*~..

.

"You look…"

"What?" he asks Alice as she studies him.

"Flummoxed, happy, stunned…I don't know," she replies. "Am I even close?"

Jasper steps back behind the bar with a case of wine.

"Hey, baby?" Alice addresses Jasper. "Don't you think Edward looks different?"

He looks over and shrugs, but then turns back and his face lights up. "Hey, you saw that crazy broad, right? Did you get some action after all?"

Edward shakes his head, gives him a dirty look, and takes a swig of his beer.

"Did you have a date, Edward?" she asks, looking almost surprised at the idea of it.

_They must really think I'm hopeless._

"He had date, all right," Jasper teases.

"Oh, that's good," she responds. "You need to get out. It's the first step in getting on with your life. I'm proud of you."

"Hold your horses, Alice. It wasn't a date, Jasper's just toying with me. I played a gig."

"A _private_ gig," Jasper emphasizes. "For a woman."

_He makes it sound almost dirty._

"Oh, well that's good too," she says. "Was she pretty?"

"Actually, yes, she was."

"Was she crazy?" Jasper asks, remembering their previous conversation about her.

"No, not crazy, but she's definitely different."

"That's nice," Alice says. "It's good to meet different kinds of women."

"I'm not 'meeting' women. Like I said, this was a gig." Edward huffs.

"A gig," Jasper repeats, rolling his eyes.

"Besides, she's different in a good way. She wasn't that extreme. A bit eccentric, but not weird or anything."

"Well, maybe you two will become friends. If so, it'd be great if you brought her in here to meet us sometime," says Alice.

"Meet you? What are you, my mother?" Edward asks, irritated.

"Don't be that way, Edward. You know we just want you to be happy. Don't forget we're the ones that stood by you after Lauren left. There's no reason to be on the offensive when we're just trying to help you."

He looks at her determined expression and realizes that he doesn't even want to go there. "Okay. Sorry."

She nods and moves away.

"Jasper," he calls out, pushing his empty beer bottle forward. "Another one, please."

.

..~*~..

.

Two weeks later, when he heads over for their third session, he finds a note attached to her front door.

_I'm in the darkroom. Come around back and find me._

"In the darkroom…" he repeats out loud. It occurs to him that she never confirmed that she's an actress. Even after two sessions she's still a mystery he can't figure out. Maybe photography is a hobby, along with baking, unorthodox garden design, and calling strange men late at night with unusual job opportunities. Anything is possible with Ms. Isabella Swan.

He follows the path of stepping stones through the side yard until he's in her backyard. He remembered seeing a cottage-looking structure when he played last. Maybe that's where she is.

As he approaches the door he notices it's ajar. He sticks his head in and looks around. It appears to be a meeting room or something, with chairs around a large table and black and white photos framed on the wall. It's not as cluttered as her house.

"Hello?" he calls out. "Isabella?"

He steps inside and notices that the photos on the walls are all black and white portraits. Most appear to be of couples.

She suddenly steps out from a hallway on the other side of the room. "You're here," she says brightly. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise." As he sets his guitar down, he realizes that he isn't just being polite, he actually means it.

Her hair is swept back in a ponytail and she's wearing a long black apron. She brushes some stray hairs off her face with her forearm since her hands are sheathed in rubber gloves.

"I'm a bit behind. I was doing some printing and hit a rough patch. The couple's coming in the morning to see the work so I was getting worried."

"You're a photographer?"

She nods. "Among many other things. You look surprised. What did you imagine I was?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Absolutely! I hope it's something fascinating."

He laughs and folds his arms over his chest. "I was sure you were an actress."

"Really?" She laughs. "Am I that dramatic?"

He shrugs, smiling.

"Yeah, I guess I can't argue that one. I always wear my heart and my passions on my sleeve."

"Well, for the record. You're much more interesting than the actresses I've known."

She smiles, smoothes out the front of her apron, and bows her head. "Thank you."

He looks at her gloves and apron, remembering that she still seems to have work to do. "Look, if you need to finish in the darkroom, we can do this another time."

"No!" she insists. "I just have two more prints to put in the drier. I'll just be a sec."

He looks over at the couch. "Okay, I'll wait here."

"Would you like to see what I'm working on?"

"Sure." He steps forward and follows her.

.

"I do portraits…of couples." She leads him towards the hallway. "My printing space and darkroom are back here."

At the end of the hallway they enter a brightly lit room. There's a long stainless sink against one wall, with a stainless backsplash where several wet prints cling to the surface.

"Wow," he comments. "I didn't think anyone did this kind of printing anymore. I thought everything was digital now."

"It is," she agrees as she pulls a soggy print out of the shallow water bath, presses it up on the backsplash, and runs a squeegee over it. "I'm old school."

He smiles at her. "Ms. Old School Isabella."

"That's me," she agrees, laughing. "Digital has no soul. There's something about sliding the pristine, naked paper under the enlarger, exposing it with your image as you determine the time, the contrast, and whether to hold back or add light in places. Then the thrill of immersing the paper into the bath of chemicals and watching it come to life in under the dark light."

"You make it sound so mysterious."

"It is. It's tactile and almost sensuous having the wet prints in your hands, manipulating them, touching them. By the time you're done in the lab there's a part of you in the print. I love that."

Her expression is full of light. He imagines it doesn't take a whole hell of a lot to inspire this woman. She sees more than most in the smallest gestures, the moments that other people barely notice.

"But I'm done here. Let's go outside and watch you create for a while." She reaches behind her to undo her apron.

"Okay, but I'm curious. You said things weren't working and you hit a rough patch. Can you show me what you mean?"

"Sure," she says as she leads him to the opposite side of the room where the belt of what appears to be some type of dryer slowly rotates. She removes her gloves and sorts through the basket where the dry prints have dropped.

He's fascinated, watching her in her workspace. She seems more serious, more focused. Seeing this professional side of her intrigues him and makes him want to know more about the other sides of her.

She hands him a print with multiple images of a couple on it. "Here are the proof sheets from our shoot. And this unfortunately…" She holds up a larger single-image print of a smiling couple. "…is pretty much what we got."

"That looks fine to me," he observes.

"Fine isn't enough. It doesn't mean anything to me unless I capture some of the essence of their true dynamic."

He's not sure what to make of that, so he just nods.

"My first impressions of the proofs were flat. I was worried I'd misread the couple when we spoke. I couldn't feel their connection in the proofs. But sometimes you need to blow them up to know for sure. I was about to give up when I discovered this image."

She holds up a different print and even he can see a certain undeniable look in their eyes. It's love, the kind of love with no fences around it, nothing pressing it down. It's a beacon basking in the sun, with no shadows, just air and blue sky all around. It takes his breath away. It makes him wish for it.

He nods slowly, his heart quietly aching.

"Right?" she asks, smiling. "This is what I sensed when the couple and I met. This is what I needed to find."

"Do you find it often in people?" he asks, assuming he knows the answer, his cynicism bleeding through.

"No. I turn down far more couples than I shoot." She sets the prints down and finishes untying her apron. "Now enough about me. I can't wait to listen to you. I've been excited all day."

.

They move out to the yard and she doesn't even ask, just goes into the house to get the wine and glasses.

When she sweeps back outside he notices she has jeans on, and she's slipped on a bright blue Indian looking shirt with silver threads and beads over her tank top. She's barefoot and her hair has been let loose, falling around her shoulders.

"How old were you when you started playing, Mr. C.?" she asks as she hands him his glass.

As hesitant as he is to share personal information, he realizes that now he's learned something about her life, it's only fair he shares some about his.

"Seven. My parents were really into music and when my sister, Rose, started her piano lessons, I wanted to get in on the act. I immediately took to it. They had to pry the guitar out of my hands to get me to do anything else."

Bella tries to imagine Edward as a young boy as he first became obsessed with music. She can picture his face young, his eyes lit up with excitement. Maybe that Edward is still somewhere deep inside of him. What if she can help him find that excited little boy again?

She grins. "How wonderful. Can you play me one of the first songs you remember learning?"

"Are you sure?"

She nods.

"I remember my first teacher gave me this book, _Easy Songs for the Beginning Guitar Player_." He strums a few times deep in thought, then suddenly a song comes to him and he starts to sing.

_Almost heaven,_

_West Virginia_

_Blue Ridge Mountains…_

"John Denver!" she shouts out, laughing. "My mom loved him. I must have heard his greatest hits album a million times."

"So shall I spare you the million and first?"

"No, keep going," she insists. sitting down on the grass right at his feet. She proceeds to sing along with him and they both make up the lyrics when their memory eludes them.

_Mystic laced with moonshine, teardrops by and by_

"It's _in my eye_!" she cries out.

"And I'm sure it's _misty taste of moonshine,_" he adds.

"What the hell does that mean anyway?"

"You're asking me?" They both start laughing.

"You know, if Jacob were here right now he'd remind us that our cool quotient just went down the tubes."

"Jacob?"

"My son."

"So he's not a John Denver fan?"

"Not exactly." She smiles with a faraway look and he wonders what it must be like to spend all those years raising a kid and then have to let them go.

.

He follows John Denver with Coldplay. This session his playing is less like a performance and more informal since they're becoming comfortable with each other. They chat more between songs. When comparing favorites, he's impressed at how broad her tastes run. She's interesting to play for since she loves hearing anything she hasn't heard before.

"Sometimes I buy tickets for concerts where I know nothing about the music," she explains in between songs. "I just go with a feeling if the name intrigues me. I ended up at a metal concert that way. It's was pretty wild…me and thousands of head bangers. The people watching was fascinating. I've never seen so many piercings and tattoos in my life. I took some very cool pictures."

"So you stayed for the whole thing?"

"Oh yes! It wasn't my favorite music, but their passion was very infectious."

He laughs and shakes his head.

"I can't play any metal. Sorry to let you down."

"It's never too late to learn," she teases. "I'll expect some Metallica next week….perhaps _Bleeding Me_ or _Until it Sleeps_. That was pretty heart-pounding live, I'll tell you."

"I'll get right on that." He smirks.

As he picks his guitar back up, it occurs to him that she said _next week_ again. _I'll expect some Metallica next week._

Did they just come to an understanding that these sessions are continuing indefinitely? To his surprise, he accepts the idea, realizing it's the first real commitment he's made in a long time.

This woman is a puzzle composed of disconnected pieces: mother, photographer, baker, friend, risk taker, traveler, bohemian…she's a woman with a big personality who collects tiny paintings. He wants to sort each puzzle piece, hold and examine it until he figures out how they all fit together.

Her spirit and openness are a cleansing rain falling over him, washing away some of his darkness. Since his life unraveled he's been such a cynic, but Isabella does something to him. She's already left her mark on him and every color seems brighter as a result.

.

.

* * *

_ ._

_If you've gotten this far, I'm thinking you're sticking around to take this journey with me. Thanks so much for coming along. I'll do my best to make it worth your while.  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_


	3. Chapter 3 Keep It Clean

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Three / Keep it Clean**

.**  
**

"So I told my women's group all about you," she says as he takes a minute to retune his guitar.

"Really? What did you tell this group of women?"

"That I have this handsome and talented musician serenading me once a week in my home. I must tell you, they were very jealous."

"Were they now?" he asks, continuing to strum and turn the tuning keys. "It sounds like you were trying to provoke them." He gives her a mock stern look. "Should I be affronted? I feel like an object…the pawn in your women's group game."

"Oh, don't feel that way! Besides, it backfired. Now they all want to come hear you. And they are wonderful, truly, this incredibly dynamic bunch of gals."

"Really?"

"Honestly though, I'm not sure how I feel about the idea. I don't really want to share you. The lawyer, Sharon, would eat you alive. And if you think I'm dramatic, you should meet Veronica, the actress. She makes me look low key."

He can only imagine what that could mean. "Do you really think I couldn't handle a group of women?" he asks, squinting at her.

She gets flustered, realizing she hasn't explained herself well. "Oh, I'm sure you can handle them, Mr. C., I'm just not sure you'd want to."

He shrugs. "You're making it sound like I'd have a harem, not an audience."

She claps her hands, laughing. "That's it exactly! A harem. All Toni talks about is sex so she would undoubtedly want to lead the pack."

"How did you women find each other and form this strange alliance?"

"We were originally in a bootcamp workout class together. Now we just get together to eat, drink heavily, and talk literature, art, men, and sex…and not necessarily in that order."

"And counteract all the good work you've done at your bootcamp workout."

"Well yes, but the irony is that we don't even take the class anymore. The gym went out of business."

"Well, if you don't mind, I think I'll pass. I'm not really in the market for a harem."

"No, I suppose your wife wouldn't appreciate that at all. They're all good-looking women too."

"Not helping…" He shakes his head. "It's distracting enough dealing with one good-looking woman. I don't need a bunch of them."

She grins widely. "You think I'm good-looking?"

"Yes, of course I do. You're beautiful, Isabella."

Her cheeks blush the palest pink and she looks down, rendering her even lovelier.

"I'm sure you have to fight men off all the time." He realizes he's said too much, and he looks back to his guitar to pretend he's still tuning it.

"I don't know about that. But Jimmy, the produce guy from my Gelson's market, has a thing for me, and I do get a lot of attention when I go into Sammy's camera," she teases as she rolls her eyes. "Almost everyone that works there is a single man, which is a big plus for me."

He knows she's playing with him, but he refuses to let her think she isn't desirable. "See, what did I tell you? I'm sure you're noticed many more places than just where you shop. Frankly, I'm amazed you're single."

She shrugs. "I've been single a long time. For most of that, I was raising my son and he was my priority. The few times I dated, he made it difficult. He always thought of himself as the man of the house."

"Well, that would be challenging for any man to circumnavigate."

"Indeed."

"And now? He doesn't live with you anymore so can no longer intimidate your suitors."

She pulls on a lock of hair as she considers his question. "I don't know," she answers finally. "I guess I'm just so used to being alone now-and dating is so unappealing. I really have to be inspired. Jimmy, for instance, is a real cutie but he isn't just going to win me over with his succulent strawberries and ripe melons."

He laughs. "I imagine not. Glad you have such high standards."

"Absolutely."

He loves her smile and how freely she smiles for him.

"So are you ready for more music?"

"Yes, please," she replies enthusiastically, like a hungry child asking for more.

.

He plays a few Joni Mitchell songs figuring she'll like that, and she lies down flat on the grass to listen. He notices that her shirt hitches up at an angle and reveals a long triangle of skin. He can't take his eyes off of the velvet glow, even though he feels he should. If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he's curious to see more.

His gaze moves slowly higher and he finds himself studying the swell of her full breasts under her tank top where her outer shirt has fallen open. Her body is so much different than Lauren's, curvier and stronger. He feels shame creep down his spine-straight into his gut, as if he's cheated on his estranged wife just by admiring another woman. Despite his inner battle his desire lingers. He imagines sliding his hands under her shirt until he's cupping her breasts and pressing his lips against her neck.

It's been so long since he thought of another woman this way. He needs to stop yet there's something about Isabella. Ever since she leapt into his life he's been stirred up. He aches deep with yearning before he finally looks away.

He begins to play again, relieved that she didn't seem to notice his staring. She seems so relaxed from the music that he wonders if she's going to fall asleep, but instead when he finishes up _A Case of You,_ she tips her head up.

"What's your wife's name?"

For a moment he wonders if her heard her correctly.

He thinks about Lauren and she suddenly materializes between them, even if it is just in conversation. He imagines that although she walked away from him, she still wouldn't want him thinking about other women. Lauren always was wildly jealous.

He pauses and looks down. "Lauren. Why?"

"She must be amazing," she says, and then settles her head back down on the grass.

"Well, yeah, she is—but why do you think that? I haven't really talked about her or anything."

"I guess just because you're amazing."

He's taken aback. He can't even be flattered because he can't figure why she'd think that based on what he's revealed to her so far.

She lifts up on her elbows. "I'd like to meet her sometime. Hey, I know. If you'd like I could shoot you guys. You know, do a portrait session and then we can make it a trade for one of the times you play for me."

"Maybe." He starts pretending to tune his guitar hoping she moves off to another topic.

"I bet she's beautiful. Hey, so why only a maybe? Is she camera shy?"

"Beautiful? Yes, and I guess you can say she's camera shy," he agrees. His jaw tenses.

…_and Edward shy._

…_and marriage vows shy._

…_and would probably rather get her portrait shot with her current boyfriend instead of me._

Absentmindedly twisting his wedding band on his finger, he turns away and tries to regain his composure. Part of him knows he could just be upfront with her, but he's so used to not disclosing the truth about his marriage that he resists. The more people he tells the more real it will be and he's not ready for that.

When he turns back her eyes are closed and she grins as a breeze picks up and brushes over them. She wiggles her toes in the grass.

_How can she always be so happy? She's like a fantastical creature created to pull me a dozen different directions._

His next selection is an obscure song. He taps his foot as he plays. She watches him and takes in every note. His voice is clear and strong and she lets it lift her until she feels like she's floating over the grass. She can tell he's getting tired, but selfishly, she never wants him to quit. He's mesmerizing to watch. She's never met a man who stirs her up inside like he does.

.

Ready for a break, he sets his guitar down and stretches his arms.

"So tell me more about your photography business. It sounds like you have a lot of clients."

"Yeah, and I turn people away all the time. The interesting thing is that it wasn't always that way. When I changed my mind about how I wanted to work, everything changed."

She pours the last of the wine in their glasses and takes a sip.

"What do you mean?"

"I used to have a commercial studio space and I did all kinds of work. Product, ads, actors' head shots…whatever came my way. Then one of my product clients asked me to shoot a black and white portrait of he and his fiancé. They're a great couple—lots of fun – …they have such a great energy between them.

"We did the shoot in the evening. It was very relaxed. We played music, drank wine, and just had a great time. By the end of the session I wasn't even sure if I'd gotten what they wanted but I wasn't charging them so there wasn't the same kind of pressure.

"The funny thing is that when I saw the proofs I was knocked out. We got such great stuff."

"I saw your work when I came in. I'm not surprised," he responds.

She grins. "Thank you."

"So was the couple happy with the images?"

"They were thrilled. They're very social and hang in some high profile circles. They started telling everyone they knew about me. Within six months, I was shooting more couples portraits than anything else but my experience with the shoots was unpredictable. You'd think anyone asking for these portraits would be a couple that had a lot of love between them, but my lens was like an eye into their relationship. More often than not the issues between couples would come out during the shoot.

He nods his head, imagining what it would've been like doing this kind of session with Lauren before she left him.

"The breaking point was this very handsome couple, I adored the wife…she was a gentle soul—really lovely. But her husband was a controlling, dominating kind of guy. Halfway through the shoot he wanted to do some shots waist up without their shirts on. She really didn't want to, but he pushed and pushed until he wore her down."

She rests her chin against her knee and sighs.

"I didn't need to see the proofs to know how uncomfortable she was, her hands covering her breasts, the fear in her eyes. And then he started in taunting her, suggesting that if she was that ashamed of her breasts why didn't she get them worked on like he'd asked her to."

"What an idiot," he says.

She nods. "I was so horrified. As you can imagine, the shoot was over. She started to cry and walked off the set. Then I let him have it."

"Good for you."

"The experience crushed my spirit for the work. I really had to do some soul searching to figure out what I wanted to do.

"So I finally decided that I would interview every couple first before we worked together. If I didn't get a good hit off of them I'd turn down the job. I also didn't disclose the prices until we met. If a couple was great but couldn't afford it, I'd lower the price so that they could."

"Wow, that was gutsy," Edward says. "From the looks of it though that must have worked out for you."

"That's the irony," she agrees. "When you create a mystique people are drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I have a two month waiting list just to have our initial meeting and from there an even longer wait for the shoot. The tough part is when I turn people down they can get a little nuts, or become pushy, but I can't be manipulated."

"I'll keep that in mind," he responds, smiling as he finishes off his wine.

"Yeah, I know I have a reputation of being eccentric, and I don't care. This is who I am."

"You definitely aren't like anyone else I've met. I think you're pretty cool actually."

She smiles. "Thanks, Mr. C."

"So I suppose that means you can turn down the unattractive people too."

"I wouldn't do that," she insists, horrified. "Actually it's interesting, because the best subjects rarely are the really pretty ones," she says quietly. "I've seen profound love with the most unexpected people."

"That must be encouraging to witness."

He's not even sure he believes that kind of love still exists, or if it does, it's tenuous like a guitar string—if played too hard, it just snaps.

"Yes, I am awed to capture it on film, but it has ruined me for relationships," she admits. "Until I find that kind of connection, I just can't be bothered."

"You don't have a boyfriend?" Edward asks. "We talked earlier about you not being married but I thought you were kidding before about not dating."

In the moment before she answers, he tries to imagine what species of boyfriend Ms. Isabella would have. Nothing would surprise him. Her boyfriend could be a Spanish flamenco dancer or an architect that constructs miniature doll houses for her in his spare time.

He already despises the idea and pushes it out of his mind.

"No, not for a while. Not since my mom died."

He doesn't ask more. He's not sure he wants to hear the answer. It sounds too close to his own life and the endless echo of his loss.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, she gets up and goes inside, then comes back out minutes later grinning. She has another bottle of wine, a tray of items, and two long, thin metal wires.

"What's that?"

"Hey, we're going to make s'mores." She tosses him the long tube of matches. "Go on, light up the fire pit."

"You didn't bake for me?" he teases.

"Are you turning your nose up at the culinary masterpiece that is s'mores? I must now re-adjust every thought I've ever had about you, sir."

He shakes his head and reluctantly accepts the roasting skewer from her. "You're making me work for this and one day you'll regret your actions."

She laughs as she pulls open the marshmallow bag. She holds the little white pillow between her fingers while he spears it.

He doesn't cooperate with the s'more concept initially…his first marshmallow he cavalierly waves into the fire until it explodes into a tiny ball of flames. He lifts his skewer like a feeble sword and waves the burning sweet through the darkening sky. The fire finally extinguishes and all that's left is the sad, charred remains of what was once plump goodness. He peels it off the skewer and hurls it into the bushes.

She arches her brow at him in disbelief.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Squirrel food."

"Nice, Mr. C.," she teases. "The squirrels deserve much better you know."

"Better them than me," he grumbles.

..~*~..

Later, at the front door, she tries to pay him.

"No!" He pushes her hand full of cash away. "I don't want your money. We talked more than I played."

She sets her hands on her hips. "But you _did_ play and we have agreement. You know I'm beginning to think that you've been lying to me about something."

His stomach drops. _How did she find out about Lauren?_

"Lying?" he asks, his heart pounding.

"The day we met you told me you were an ass. That couldn't be further from the truth."

He laughs. "Well, not yet anyway." He grins widely. "Although you know what? I did lie about something before we met."

"Really?"

"Yes, I told you I didn't need any new friends…but I think I did."

"Me too." She looks so happy.

_If only Lauren had been so easy to please._ She always made him feel like he was letting her down.

He can see Isabella's studying his chin all of a sudden. She grins.

"What?"

"You've got chocolate all over your mouth. For someone who turned their nose up at s'mores you look like you got a bit carried away."

He smirks then starts wildly licking his lips like a tiger after a big meal. "Did I get it all?"

She licks her finger and steps closer. "Here, you missed a spot. She rubs her finger on a spot on his chin then licks it off her finger. She looks up and suddenly notices the look in his eyes.

Hunger and heat. She knows that look. It's raw desire.

As quickly as she's aroused by the idea of it, her thrill turns to fear. _He's married._

_Married _she repeats in her head.

There's no denying how attractive he is, but this can't be. Was she leading him on? It wouldn't be the first time her passionate nature encouraged things.

She looks down and takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. She needs to get away from all these feelings.

"Okay then, I've got to get back to the darkroom. Thanks again for another great evening."

He can feel the shift between them and he's not sure what to say. It's clear he's made her uncomfortable. She hasn't mentioned next week. What if this is the last time they see each other?

What if…

His head is spinning with confusion and thoughts of Lauren.

When he's out on the front porch and the door closes behind him, he takes a deep breath of night air. It takes all of his composure to calmly walk to his car and lock his guitar in the trunk. Reaching back to pat his back pocket, he makes sure he has his wallet. He needs a drink. He can't get to Jasper's bar fast enough.

.

On the other side of the closed door, Isabella presses against the cool wood with her eyes closed. Her skin is on fire. When his car starts up she peeks out the entry way window to see him pull away. As soon as he's out of her vision, the sudden emptiness terrifies her.

Leaving a trail of clothes through the house, she rushes to the swimming pool. She lowers herself into the deep water and sinks to her knees as her hair slowly unfurls.

She prays for absolution…anything to cleanse her of the dark thoughts that are filling all the spaces in her mind.

..~*~..

"Michael?"

"Hey, Bella. What's up?"

"I need some advice."

"Tax advice? I thought we went over everything already."

"No not accounting stuff…it's about this guy."

"Why me for that kind of advice? What about Angela, or Leah, or any one of your other friends?"

"No, it has to be you because you're a man."

"Oh, I see. I'm a man who was involved with you and thus has insight into your crazy mind."

"Yeah, that's it," she replies, not the smallest bit offended. "That's the other reason you _are_ exactly who I should talk to. You understand how guys think and you sort of understand how I think."

"If I understood how you think, we'd have been married by now and you wouldn't be asking about other men."

"But look, we've managed to remain friends through it all. Do you think a married man and a single woman can be friends?"

"Oh hell, are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. Do you?"

"No."

"Really? There's no chance at all?"

"Come on, Bella. What do you think? Who is this guy anyway?"

She sighs. "His name is Edward. I hired him to play music for me. He's amazing."

"You know you can't write that off as an expense, right?"

"Michael, would you stop with the accounting stuff for a minute?"

"First, tell me why you think he's so great."

"For one, he's incredibly talented…a wonderful musician with a beautiful voice. It's something else, though. From the moment I first heard him I felt like we had a connection. I just sense something special about him."

"Special?" Michael asks. "So you think that he'd be perfect for you if he weren't married?"

"No, he's not perfect. It seems he's going through something and he's shut down, but I'm convinced that if he can get past it he could be extraordinary."

"I see. He has a lot of baggage and now you're going to fix him," Michaels says.

"That's not what I meant," Bella replies, frustrated. "Just forget it. Instead, can you explain to me why you think it's impossible for us to be friends?"

"Look, I suppose it's not completely impossible. Let's hope that he's madly in love with his wife and has a very satisfying sex life with her. Then it would be helpful if he thinks you're strange or something along those lines because if he's attracted to you, there's no chance you can be friends. Judging from the tenor of your voice, and the way you're fighting logic, it sounds like you're attracted to him."

"I'm afraid I am?" she says softly.

"You're playing with fire, my friend. You need to walk away."

She takes in his words and tosses them around her head. She's terribly disappointed but she knows what she has to do. "Okay, you're right. I'll call and tell him no more gigs."

"Good. Keep it clean. Make life easier for yourself, not harder."

_What's so good about anything that's easier,_ she wonders with a heavy heart.

"Okay, thanks Michael. Really."

"You're welcome, Bella."

.

The phone rings five times before it goes to voicemail. She twists a strand of hair around her fingers nervously. She's frustrated he doesn't answer, but also she's glad for the reprieve. She has a little more time now to get used to the idea of no longer having him in her life.

_Hey, Edward, it's Bella. I hope you're having a grand day. Anyway, I need to talk to you about something. Can you give me a call? Okay, thanks. Bye._

_.  
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_I've loved, loved, loved your reviews! You guys have me so fired up with inspiration for this story...thank you so much.  
_

_See you next Saturday!  
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_xoxo  
_

_abbie  
_

_ the link for Rose Arcadia's sweet D&B review and amazing blinkie as well as my twitter link are on my profile :-)  
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	4. Chapter 4 The Off Ramp

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_These are four very busy women & I truly appreciate the time they give me and this story. Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

_Thank you so much for Snarky and my wonderful birthday wishes this week...you made our days extra special xoxo  
_

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Four / The Off-Ramp**

.**  
**

The next morning when the phone picks up, Edward hears wild laughter in the background.

"Holy shit!" Bella's voice sounds a bit hysterical.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Michael! What's that plumber's name again?"

_Michael? Is this how she always answers her phone?_

"Isabella?" he asks, completely confused.

"Who is this?" she yells into the mouthpiece.

"It's Edward. Is something wrong?"

"Oh God, sorry about that. I thought you were Michael. My water heater broke…or a pipe or something. There's water everywhere. If this continues, I'll be able to go swimming in my kitchen. I should get a life raft. It's like a bad science fiction movie."

"You need to turn off your water," he advises.

"Oh shit! The lake is in the family room, too. The Asian rugs are squishy soaked. Well, isn't this an adventure!"

"Have you called your plumber?"

"That's the thing, I don't have one. Well, I did but then I caught him going through my panty drawer when he thought I'd left. Kinky bastard."

A powerful urge roars through him to find this plumber and kick his ass.

_Focus, Edward._

"Do you know how to turn off your water?"

"I think so. I hope so. Damn, I always swear I'm going to learn this basic stuff and then my head goes right back into the clouds. Do you think I have my earthquake kit? Of course not! How long do you think one can survive on a Costco jumbo box of granola bars?"

He hears a squeal over the phone.

"Oh, it's almost up to my ankles!"

He imagines her in an_ I Love Lucy_ episode, creating more mayhem than what she started with. She just needs her Ethel to complete the picture.

"You've got to turn off the water!" he yells into the phone.

"Thank goodness I just moved my piles off books off the floor! Can you imagine Helmut Newton pictures soaking wet?"

He makes a mental note that she isn't someone he wants to be stuck with in an emergency. She has absolutely no focus.

"Look…_try_ to turn the water off. I'm on my way over."

"Oh! Thank you! Bring your galoshes and your swim trunks!"

.

When he arrives she's wearing shorts, a B52's T-shirt, and rainboots with little yellow ducks on them. She's completely flustered and cute, and it's very distracting.

She looks down at the canister he's rolled across her porch.

"Shop-Vac," she reads out loud. She looks up at him, grinning. "My hero!"

She opens the door wider. He smiles but shakes his head as he steps inside.

"The mop thing really wasn't working for me," she laments.

"Yeah, that's like putting out a forest fire with a garden hose. Did you get the water turned off?" he asks as they move towards the kitchen.

"I think so. Here, let me show you."

She takes him to where the line source is and he rechecks the handles. "Yeah, good," he acknowledges. "Now show me how far the water has reached." He starts setting up the Shop-Vac.

"Damn, I love a handy man!"

He laughs. "And I love a damsel in distress."

"Careful, you. I'm a modern woman you know. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can. But there's nothing wrong with getting some help from your friends."

"Exactly!"

They both work hard corralling and removing the water and moving things off the floor. Edward determines that her water heater's busted, and he calls his guy to bring over a new one. Their last step is to suck as much water as they can out of the rugs and then drag them to the backyard. They drape them over the yard furniture in the sun to dry out.

"You should probably get some rugs specialists to take care of these."

"Good idea. They were my mom's so they're precious to me."

When the last of the work is done she goes in the house and gets two glasses of iced tea, and they head back out to the yard. They're both sweaty, and her hair is half out of her ponytail. She looks kind of wild. She takes off her boots and sits on the edge of the pool so she can stick her feet inside. He settles in a nearby lawn chair.

"I can't thank you enough. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't called."

"Glad I could help," he responds simply. He looks over where some bricks have come loose from a nearby planter. They're scattered around the base. "It's a lot of work taking care of a house."

"Always something to do," she agrees. "Jacob used to always push me to stay on top of things and help where he could. But I'm afraid that now he's gone, I've gotten lazy about it." She smiles sheepishly.

She watches him drink his iced tea and realizes that he's been completely neutral with her…no flirting…no steamy looks as they worked side by side. Maybe she misread him the other night. They'd both had more wine than usual. Who knows what anything meant at that point. Feeling relieved, she takes a deep breath and leans back, her elbows resting on the pool deck as she swishes her feet around in the water.

She doesn't notice how his fingers tighten over the glass when he looks at her stretched out like a lioness in the sun. She doesn't know the thoughts that filled his mind when she got down on all fours as they worked. His shame is a shadow that follows him everywhere now.

He looks at her long legs, they way she fills out her shorts and top, and then the color in her cheeks. There's something so organic about this woman. She exudes an earthy sensuality, all the more profound because she has no sense of it. Even in her shorts and old T-shirt she's incredibly sexy.

"So I'm sorry if I took you away from work," she apologizes.

"No worries. I wasn't working anyway."

"What do you do exactly? We've never talked about your work. I just assumed that it involves music. Am I right?"

"Yeah, early on in my career I performed. I had a decent following and cut a couple of albums. Eventually I got tired of the racket, always moving from place to place and dealing with a lot of bullshit. It was a rough scene. After that, I sort of fell into writing scores for TV and commercials. Lauren had a lot of connections and before we knew it I was pretty busy."

"So is that what you do now? Scores?" she asks.

He shakes his head. "Unfortunately I lost a lot of clients when I was taking care of my dad. I just couldn't handle the deadlines anymore. But honestly I was burned out on it anyway."

"It sounds like you were going through a lot. You must've been so overwhelmed." There's a compassion in her eyes that comforts him. It's soothing.

He turns his face toward the sun.

"So now I'm trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up," he jokes.

She grins. "That's wonderful. Take your time and don't worry about growing up, just find what's going to make you happy _right now_. That's all that matters."

For a moment he can't figure out this feeling that comes over him, but it takes his breath away. He plays her words over in his head again and again until it hits him.

_Acceptance_

If only he could embrace this gift she's given him so freely. Surely it would set him free.

.

She follows him out to his car and watches him load up his Shop-Vac.

"You know, I was returning your call this morning. What did you call me about last night?"

She startles, suddenly remembering her conversation with Michael and her intent to cut off her confusing friendship with Edward. With the events of the day it doesn't seem relevant anymore. They seem fine. She doesn't allow herself to think that she's glossing over things because she doesn't want to let him go.

She pauses, trying to figure out what to say.

"Oh, I was just calling to see if you were available to play again Thursday."

"I see. Yeah, Thursday's good. Hey, and by the way, who's Michael?"

"Michael?"

"You thought I was Michael when you picked up the phone."

"Oh, he's my accountant. He gives me all kinds of advice too." She laughs. "Everything from tax shelters to household floods."

"Your accountant?"

"Well he's also my friend. We were involved for a while before my mom died."

"Really? Was it serious?"

"Not too serious. Honestly, I think it was more for the sex. It'd been a while-I had catching up to do."

She rolls her eyes and he laughs.

"Yeah. Been there, done that," he replies.

"I'm sure you have," she teases, pushing him toward his car door. "So on Thursday why don't you bring your wife?"

He blanches, reminded that his shadow's lingering right beside him, and he knows he's going to lie to her.

"She's on a long business trip."

"Okay, maybe I can meet her when she gets back."

"Sure." He turns away, ashamed.

When he starts to open his car door she pulls on his arm. He turns to her, and she draws him into a big hug. It feels so good to have her arms around him and he closes his eyes for a moment to soak it in.

"Thank you," she says softly when they finally pull apart. "Thanks so much for coming to my rescue."

He grins. "Anytime. You're fun to save, Isabella."

.

..~*~..

.

He realizes as he pulls up in front of her house Thursday that he's been looking forward to this session for days. He rings the bell and smiles, remembering that wild skirt she was wearing the first time he came here. He wonders what she'll be wearing today. She looks different every time he's seen her—he never knows quite what to expect.

He also doesn't expect a man to answer the door.

The man, tall, with sandy blonde hair and a tan is wearing work slacks and a button down shirt. His tie's been loosened and several of his top buttons undone. He's folding up one of his cuffs as he stares unabashedly at Edward.

Edward stares back. This guy apparently feels very much at home here.

"Yes?" he asks, looking annoyed.

_What the hell?_

"I'm here for Isabella. We have an appointment."

The blond shakes his head as he looks down at Edward's guitar. "You're the musician guy. I knew it…she never listens to me." He steps aside and apprehensively waves him in.

"Is she here?" Edward asks as he moves into the living room.

"She went to the studio to get some paperwork for me. She'll be back in a minute. I'm Michael, by the way." He doesn't extend his hand, but instead nods casually.

"Her accountant?"

Michael folds his arms over his chest.

"Her friend."

The air is thick with tension. Edward feels the irritation build inside of him. "Is there an issue?"

Michael looks down at his ring. "You're married."

"Yes, and…"

"So what are you doing here?"

Edward scowls. "What'd you mean, _what am I doing here? _She hired me to play for her."

"No…what are you _really_ doing here?"

"Listen, Michael, the 'friend'…"

"No, you listen, _Edward, the 'musician'_. I don't know what you're about, but you need to back off of Bella."

"Back off of Bella? What in the hell do you think I've done to her?"

"I'm not sure yet, so that's why I'm warning you." Michael raises his eyebrows and scowls.

Edward looks at the guy through the red haze of fury and has to fight the urge to punch him when he starts up again.

"I hope you've figured out that she's special—she's not some chick you pick up at a bar. She not always as strong as she seems and I'm not going to stand by and let her be sucked into some fucked up situation with you."

Edward takes a step back. He can't believe this guy's directness.

"So you think because you used to date her that you can run Isabella's life? You don't know anything about me or my intentions."

Suddenly they hear a female voice in the distance. "Michael? Where'd you go?"

They both turn as they hear Bella approach.

When she steps into the living room, she has a big smile on her face. Her long hair is in a loose braid pulled over her shoulder and she's wearing a fitted knit dress in a dark forest green.

"Edward's here!"

"Yes, he certainly is," acknowledges Michael before giving her a reprimanding look.

"It's okay, Michael," she says softly.

Michael just shakes his head and turns to stare at Edward again.

Edward smiles at her, like Michael isn't there still leering at him. "Is this still a good time?"

"Oh yes!" She hands Michael a stack of papers. "We're done, right?"

Michael doesn't look satisfied. "I thought when we set this up that we talked about having an early dinner."

"Damn, I'm sorry I forgot about that. Can we do it next time?"

"You know, Bella, this is the third time you've forgotten about our meetings. Should I worry about you? Or is it because you're distracted?" He glances over at Edward and glares, like somehow this is his fault.

She nervously plays with the silver bracelets stacked on her arms and looks down for several long seconds. When she looks back up, there's a look in her eyes that haunts Edward. In that moment it's as if she's naked and completely vulnerable.

"Michael," she says quietly.

"Okay," he says, backing down. "I'm sorry." He walks over to her and gives her a hug. "We'll do it next time. Okay?"

She nods. "Thanks. I'll be better next time, I promise."

She walks him to the door and lets him out. After closing the door, she turns toward Edward. "Was it me or was there some serious tension between you two?"

"Let's just say he's not a fan of me being here. He's sure protective about you."

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that," she agrees.

"Is he still in love with you or something? Did you cast your spell on him?" he jokes, trying to lighten things up.

She still looks serious for a second, but then her mood shifts.

Striking a dramatic pose, she curls her arms up like a dancer, her bracelets clattering down her arms. "Yes, that's me…the enchantress. He's forever under my spell. Beware, Mr. C, or you may find yourself in the same predicament."

She grabs his arm and pulls him out of the living room.

He grins as she leads him outside. He likes it when she pulls on him. He drags his weight a bit so she has to work harder.

When she looks over, he winks playfully. "How do you know I'm not already?"

.

..~*~..

.

It's later than usual and, feeling inspired, they've ended the evening settled on the garden love seat with their glasses of wine.

He's feeling exceptionally content. "I'd like to thank you, Isabella," he says gallantly.

"You want to thank me? But why?"

"This," he says, pointing to his guitar case and waving his hand over the scene, "…has been making me fall in love with music again."

She can tell from his tone that he's had too much wine.

She takes a cautious sip from her glass realizing that she's had a bit too much as well. It's just so good to feel completely unfettered, an explorer without map or compass-just a passion to see and experience everything she can. All of her careful plans delineating them as platonic friends are getting fuzzy around the edges. Somewhere deep inside she warms to the idea that she wants to experience more than just his music.

She slides onto the slippery slope wondering what really are the boundaries between them? When does he truly become a profound part of her life?

She lets out a long happy sigh. "I'm so glad. You were especially inspired tonight. I doubt my fellow head bangers would've even recognized _Bleeding Me._ You made it beautiful."

"That took a while for me to work out. So no more metal requests, okay?"

She laughs. "I promise."

They sit quietly for a long moment. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

"You were right in that first conversation we had, you know. All I needed was someone to _really_ listen to me." He turns back to face her and settle against the cushions. "I realize now that no one had really listened for a very long time."

She smiles at him.

"Until _you_ found me."

"Well, I'm glad I did," she says quietly, the euphoric haze from the music still lingering. She senses the weight of her body on the seat, but it feels like her spirit is still dancing as his fingers move over his guitar, his soulful voice bringing the lyrics to life.

It's been so long that he can't remember when he felt this good. He takes a deep breath and instinctively, without thinking, he rests his hand on her thigh. It feels natural to have his hand there, and his fingertips lightly make circles over the soft fabric of her dress.

She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His fingers push down and she feels the soft pressure as if he were touching her in secret places. This magic that's stirred up between them has a powerful pull. She's intoxicated by much more than the wine.

"Isabella," he whispers.

The sound of his voice is a drug, a seduction as the quick-sand swallows her whole. She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back, feeling the tips of his fingers skim lightly along her neck. His warm hand cups her cheek.

She can hear the sharpness of his breath and just beneath, the measure of his heartbeat.

"Isabella. Look at me."

She wants to own this moment so that her arousal at his touch is a thing of beauty, not of shame.

She wants to be seduced slowly, passionately… to be kissed until her lips are raw. She wants them to make love like sleek animals, rolling over the damp grass under the moonlight.

But most of all, she wants this man of music and pretty words, this man who at this moment holds her tender heart in his hands…

to _not_ be married.

_Married_

His arms wrap around her pulling her closer. She opens her eyes in time to see him graze his lips along her jaw. He's tasting her in the way of a man not hesitant to feast. His hunger hangs heavy in the night air.

"Isabella."

_His lips, oh God, his lips…_

Somehow, the moment they connect, logic finally hits her like lightening.

"Wait…stop," she whispers, her mental haze clearing.

When the palms of her hands push into his shoulders, he falls back in slow motion. He doesn't need a curtain to close, or an alarm to trip off to know it's over.

Magic is an illusion, a slight of hand, a trap door to fall into.

.

She quickly moves off the love seat.

"What am I doing?" she cries out.

He's humbled by her willingness to own everything. Michael was right-she's far too good for him.

"Hey," he insists. "I'm sorry…It's me. It's all me. I just…"

She holds up her hand. "No." She looks around the yard frantically. "You need to go. Right now, Mr. Married Man."

_Fuck._

He stands up and shakily tries to get his bearings. He wants to find the words to explain, but his confusion stands in the way. She's right, after all. Even with Lauren gone, even with the unsigned divorce papers stalled in the second drawer of his desk, he will remain tied to her as long as he still holds hope for his marriage. Defeated, he follows Isabella into the house, setting his half-full glass of wine on the kitchen counter.

He thinks of his dad and the quality of his father's convictions, a man who loved one woman for thirty-five years until she died in his arms. What would his dad think of him now?

He drops his head in disgrace.

Now full of determination, she storms through the living room and pulls open the front door. He pauses, considering what he could possibly say but then another feeling hits him, like he's missing a limb.

"My guitar, " he says, turning back.

"No!" she insists. "I'll get it. You wait here."

The entire march to the backyard she curses herself. The anger feels good and she embraces it. By the time she gets back to him, she's enraged. She shoves the guitar against him.

"Here."

"I'm sorry," he says, pressing his hand over his forehead. He looks broken.

"Michael was right. I can't afford to play with fire."

"But, will you let me explain..."

"Please, just go. I'm sorry for my part in this. If you must know, I feel sick about it."

"Isabella."

"Please…please…."

He drops his head defeated and steps outside. When the door closes behind him, he knows he's lost something extraordinary.

What an utter fool he was, trying to catch a butterfly with such mangled hands.

.

..~*~..

.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Alice asks Jasper in a low voice. "I thought he was getting better."

"Something with that woman. That's all I can figure out. He's only said a few things. He hasn't talked in over an hour," Jasper explains, looking up at the clock. "He doesn't even know yet that I took his keys away. We're going to have to get him a cab home."

"Damn. He was happy last time we saw him. I was so hopeful."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

.

"Here, I made you a sandwich. You need to eat something." Alice pushes the plate close to Edward, and he takes a look and then pushes it away.

"Not hungry," he growls before taking another sip of his drink.

"What happened? I swear it breaks my heart to see you like this. You know you're like a brother to me, Edward."

He shakes his head firmly before rubbing his hands roughly over his face.

"I should have never gone there. I didn't think it was possible to feel worse than I've been, but I was fucking wrong. I feel much worse now."

Alice walks to the customer side of the bar and climbs onto the stool next to him. She knows sometimes he'll talk to her even when Jasper can't get through to him. "What happened?"

"I tried to kiss her."

"Okay," she responds.

"But, I wanted her. Damn…I wanted her badly."

"And she didn't want you?"

"Oh, she wanted me. The feeling between us…well, it's something powerful. And for a minute she seemed willing to surrender to it, but then…"

"Yes?" Alice says gently.

"She remembered I was married, and she freaked out."

The anguish in his face is hard to take. Alice looks down at his ring and scowls. "But you aren't married, Edward, not really. If you like her why haven't you explained that to her?"

"I don't know," he moans as his fingers tighten into fists. "Maybe because I'm an asshole. Maybe because I don't know what I want anymore. For fifteen years all I wanted was Lauren. I don't know why I can't let her go. She got over me a long time ago."

Alice shakes her head and sits up straight on her stool before facing him.

"I'm going to tell you something, Edward, and I know you don't want to hear it."

"Then don't tell me. I'm really not in the fucking mood for advice."

_Of course she ignores him. _

"Lauren's not coming back and you've got to let her go."

"Alice, don't."

"But there's something else. I haven't said it, even though I've thought it, but I'm going to say it now. You've been blind for a long time and you've got to open your eyes. Hasn't it occurred to you that you and Lauren are completely different people now? It's not just that she had an affair, as devastating as that was, it's that you grew away from each other."

He shakes his head. "I know it was hard for her when I was taking care of Dad. I got moody and fucking depressed. It was the most horrible time in my life, watching him go through what he did, and I couldn't handle it. She saw the worst of me."

Alice reaches over and squeezes his arm. "You gave up a lot to help Carlisle. You are, you were, an incredible son."

"I would've done anything for him. He was my hero," Edward states sadly.

"And you were his."

"But now that he's gone, I never had a chance to make it up to her. To show her that I could be the kind of man she needs again."

"Edward, can't you see that she was gone long before all of that? Her heart wasn't in the marriage anymore. That Hollywood player she's with now was just an off-ramp out of the marriage for her. He could've been anyone."

He takes along look at Alice, and then pushes his drink away. She slides it down to Jasper and he sets a glass of water in front of Edward before stepping away again.

"Do you think Isabella was supposed to be an off-ramp for me?"

Alice tips her head sideways, considering his question.

He waves his hand like he's swatting an imaginary fly. "Never mind. Enough with the fucking metaphors, my head hurts."

She shrugs, ignoring his rant. "I don't know. I haven't met her, or seen her with you. But even if she was, would it matter? Sometimes that's just what you need. Remember, sometimes an off-ramp can take you somewhere _better_ than where you would've ended up if you'd kept going straight down the same old road."

.

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_._

_I love hearing from you-even if it's to rant...perfect characters don't make interesting stories_

_Thanks for reading!_

_xoxo_

_abbie_


	5. Chapter 5 The Real Edward Cullen

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

_I just left a Comic Con party to come post this chapter...that's how much I appreciate you guys and your support of this story. xoxo  
_

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Five / The Real Edward Cullen**

**.  
**

Bella wakes up the next day unusually early. The view from her bedroom window glows with every shade of green as the sun lights up her garden. She sits up with a start and decides to attack the day like a warrior.

She puts on her camouflage khakis and paint-splattered tank top and heads to the paint store. She's always thought about painting her bedroom rose pink to match the wild pillows she found at Anthropologie, but now the idea has a new appeal. What better assurance that you'll never have a wife-cheating member of the male species in your bed than to paint your bedroom walls bright pink.

.

Of course, Mario at Dunn Edwards paint store gets nervous when she describes the size of her bedroom and what she has in mind. She's already filled her cart with edging tape, fresh rollers, and tarp.

"That's a lot of pink, Ms. Swan. Are you sure you want it this bright?"

Mario knows her penchant for color. Every room in her house is a different shade and he's sold her most of the paint. This time, however, his kind face looks surprisingly concerned.

"I want it brighter, Mario, but this is the brightest you have."

"If you don't mind me asking…did you have a fight with your boyfriend or something? This isn't the first time I've seen this happen."

She stares at him, dumbfounded. "Well, something like that."

He nods. "I thought so. Will you do me a favor Ms. Swan and just buy a sample can and paint it on a large white cardboard. Then move it around the room—live with it a bit and see if it's really what you want."

She huffs and takes the small can. "Okay. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be sure."

He lets out a large breath of relief and smiles with satisfaction the entire time he rings her up.

.

She isn't even finished painting the cardboard on her back lawn before she says a silent thank you to Mario. The color is like a scream of Pepto-Bismol. She's pretty sure she'd develop an anxiety disorder sleeping in a room that shocking.

After cleaning up and changing into something presentable, she pulls herself together for her lunch meeting with a new couple. This whole paint fiasco has messed up her radar. She can't even tell if they have _the_ connection or she even wants to work with them. It's maddening.

Feeling even more edgy, she spends the afternoon working on a page in her art journal. She makes an angry collage of couples torn out of proof sheets where she crosses out the guys' face and writes unflattering sayings around their heads. She knows she's being childish but it feels incredibly good. By the end she's laughing.

.

The day proves to be a kaleidoscope of emotions. When her friend and trainer, Leah, shows up for dinner, her mindset has shifted again. Melancholy has set in as she wonders what she could have done to prevent the decimation of her and Edward's friendship.

Leah, true to form, shares her frank opinion while they eat take-out from the nearby vegan restaurant.

"Come on, Bella…what an ass. Why are you blaming yourself? He's just a despicable cheater. A man whore."

Bella digs her chopsticks back into the white box of brown rice and vegetables. "Maybe I feel somewhat responsible because he didn't want to meet me in the first place. He turned down the job. He said no five different ways and I kept on pushing."

"And that entitles him a free pass to get into your panties?"

"You are positively poetic Leah…really."

"He could probably sniff the desperation off you. I mean, how long has it been since you've done the deed?"

"A long, long time," Bella laments.

"Exactly. Man whores have a sixth sense for that stuff."

"He's not a man whore."

"You need a real man," Leah proclaims.

"And where pray tell would I find such a creature?"

"That's the problem with L.A., isn't it? If you're a woman over forty you don't exist. Maybe it's time to just hire a man."

"What are you talking about?" Bella looks irritated.

"I'm not joking. I'm going to hire you an escort who'll take care of your needs. My friend Kathleen knows of this super high-end place with gorgeous young men. Their sole focus is pleasuring you in every way. She said it was the best oral she's ever had."

Bella's eyes grow wide. "No way. Can you imagine doing that with a total stranger?" She pulls her thighs tightly together. "I sure can't."

Leah pulls out her iPhone and her fingers fly over the little screen. She smiles and then holds it up for Bella. "I would be just fine with having a man this fine between my legs."

"Oh my, he's beautiful," Bella admits.

"And Kathleen says he has amazing staying power. She calls him Mr. O."

Bella feels the heat move up her chest and her cheeks get hot. Instead of the beautiful boy, she pictures Edward on top of her, kissing her as his slow thrusts turn her inside out.

_This isn't helping…at all._

"That's not what I need, really. I want to be listened to, to be loved…to be adored. Not just mechanical sex no matter how hot it is."

"You want a fairy tale, girlfriend. Good luck with that." She shuts off her cell phone and reaches for the last tofu spring roll.

.

They end their girl's night in the living room by the fire. Leah is endlessly entertaining with her stories of her array of clients. As a personal trainer, she's learned that more often than not the more money her clients have the weirder they get.

She has her bare feet up on the coffee table, her toned legs fully exposed. Bella admires the comfort Leah has in her body. She's helped Bella become more aware and appreciative of her own body and she loves her for it.

She notices her friend squinting and studying something on the mantle.

"What?" asks Bella.

Leah points. "Hey, look over there. Is that money coming out of that vase?"

Bella looks up and her heart skips. It's the teal vase that she would stash Edward's payments in, and peeking out of the top are green bills. She slowly gets up and walks over to the mantle before pulling the large wade of money out of the vase.

"So, what? You don't believe in banks anymore? I don't know about you, but I'd do the under-the-mattress thing before I'd use that vase."

Bella sits down, the cash spilling out over her lap as she organizes it. It doesn't take long for her to figure out that it's every dollar that she paid Edward for their sessions. He must have stuffed it in the jar when she went to the yard to get his guitar before they parted ways.

"This is all the money I paid Edward for our sessions," she explains quietly. She slowly straightens the bills and puts them in order. It's as if her life will make sense if she can organize this small part of it.

"Really? He gave you back all of your money?"

"Yes, every dollar," Bella confirms as she finishes counting the stack.

"Okay, then I stand corrected," Leah says. "He's not a man whore. He's just a man."

"Yeah," Bella agrees sadly.

_Just a man._

..~*~..

The money lies in a heap on her dining room table for several days and she starts to get ideas about what to do with it. She considers folding each bill into an origami swan and mailing the bunch to him in an old shoebox. The problem with that idea is that his wife might find it. Bella's not willing to hurt her and stir up that pot, considering nothing actually happened between them.

Then it occurs to her that it might be more productive to just donate the money to a women's organization in his name, then sign him up for their mailing list and email blasts. This is appealing until she realizes that she has neither his address nor his email.

Grabbing a manila envelope, she stuffs the bills inside before picking up her phone. She decides to text him and keep it simple.

_Can I get your address? I have something I need to mail you._

Immediately a text comes back from her phone provider informing her that the number doesn't have a texting feature. _Of course the Neanderthal doesn't text._

She grits her teeth and presses his name in her contact list.

When he picks up, his voice is so weak that she has to check her phone to make sure she dialed correctly.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" He suddenly starts to cough violently.

She holds the phone away from her ear until he stops. "Are you all right?"

"I'm okay." He coughs again.

"You don't sound okay. Look, I've got something to give you and I need your address."

"What are you going to give me?" Every breath is punctuated by wheezing. "It's not the money is it?" he warily asks.

She doesn't answer and there's a long silence finally broken by another coughing spell.

"I don't want the money. I don't." He sounds like a man that's been kicked, and hard.

"Well, I don't either. You earned it…it's yours. Look, if you don't tell me I will find out other ways. You have no idea how tenacious I can be."

"I'm sure you can be." He coughs and although he's covered the mouthpiece she can hear him gasping for air.

She feels twisted asking, but she's compelled, as she hears him fight to take in air. "You sound so sick. Is you wife or someone taking care of you?"

The silence is deafening.

"No," he finally admits.

Bella remembers then that his wife was on a long business trip. "Do you have any food in the house?"

"Please, don't…"

"Give me your address." Her voice is strong, powerful. Her warrior mode is back.

He sighs. "Eight-eleven North Martel. It's the loft in the back. I'll leave the key for the mailbox under the mat. You can leave whatever it is in there."

"It won't fit in the mailbox."

He pauses. "Look, I'm sleeping a lot. I may not hear the door."

"Then leave the house key under the mat. I'll just stick it right inside the door."

"Isabella…"

She hangs up. She can't bring herself to argue anymore with a sick man.

.

She questions herself for the next couple of hours but finally breaks down and goes to the drug store to pick up some cough and cold medicine. Then she heads over to Canter's Deli and gets a tub of chicken noodle soup and a bunch of other stuff like macaroni salad, bagels and cream cheese…comfort food. She can't stop herself—it's the mother in her. Even though she's still angry, it's her nature to help him if he's sick; it's just not in her character to abandon him.

When she pulls up to the address he gave her, it isn't anything like she expected. It's new and industrial looking—either condos or high-end apartments. She thought they'd live in a different kind of place, something that felt like a home. This modern design is very cold and sterile.

After finding the key under the doormat she stands in front of the door for a minute debating. She's done so much more that she should've, but he sounded so sick. She knows that men are terrible at asking for help. She finally surrenders to her impulse and unlocks the door.

The floors are polished cement and there is a large abstract canvas hanging on the wall facing the door. Despite it's muted colors, she decides that she likes it and wonders if he picked it out, or Lauren, or perhaps they picked it as a couple. Her stomach starts to turn, but then she refocuses. She steps into the loft just far enough to place the items on the nearby table.

She perks her ear, listening, and everything is silent until his coughing starts up again. She takes another step inside.

"Edward," she calls out. "I brought you some medicine. I'm coming in."

Silence.

She steps forward until she's in the doorway leading to a huge room with high ceilings. There is an enormous abstract painting leaning against the wall. She remembers him talking about preferring really big paintings—he must have meant it. As for the rest of the decor, other than the bed and nightstand in the far corner by the balcony, there's hardly any furniture. A couch, desk, and small table with two chairs pretty much are all she can see as her eyes scan the room.

Her eyes move back to the bed piled high with blankets. Only Edward's head is in view.

"Edward?"

He coughs. "You weren't going to come in." Even in his weakness he sounds frustrated.

She steps up closer to the bed and is surprised at how pale and drawn he is. He also looks like he's trembling but she realizes he's shivering even though the temperature of the room is fine.

"You look like hell."

He moans and wedges his eyes shut. "Thanks. Can you leave now?"

After appraising all the blankets he's piled on to stay warm, she moves even closer and notices the bedside table. Besides the clock turned on its face and box of Kleenex, there's a jumbo jug of whiskey like they sell at Costco with a short half-filled tumbler next to it. The screw-on cap for the whiskey is perched on the edge of the table. Right next to it rests his wedding band, casting a burnished gold glow. Something about the mood of this desperate still-life makes her deeply unsettled.

She looks over her shoulder and sees the kitchen. She carries over her bags and slowly empties them on the slate countertop. As she methodically goes through the cupboards to locate a bowl, mug, and silverware, her mind is computing, noting the lack of food in the cupboard, the stark lack of accessories or color. When she realizes that there are no dishtowels, just a loose roll of paper towels on the counter, her hypothesis is formed.

Looking back toward Edward she sees that he's still resting with his eyes closed so she anxiously wanders over to the bathroom, examines it, then lastly steps into a closet the size of a small room. Her heart is pounding as she stands among a sparse collection of shirts, jeans, and T-shirts, a few jackets and nondescript boxes. Her conclusion is indisputable.

There's no trace of a woman anywhere in this place.

_The wedding ring. "Her name is Lauren." A business trip. "She's camera shy." What the hell?_

Her head is spinning. She presses her hands together wondering how her life became a mystery novel. What does all of this mean?

She quietly returns to the main room and studies Edward. He's so out of it his eyes are still closed, and even lying still he looks tormented. This man apparently is living an inner life she can't even imagine.

Steadying herself, she quietly focuses on the job she's here to do. She faces the side table, rights the clock, and carefully places the wedding band over the alarm button where it'll be easily noticed. She then methodically screws the cap back on the whisky and carries it and the glass tumbler to the kitchen.

When she returns she has a bowl of soup and a cup of tea that she sets down in its place.

"Edward," she says softly as she slowly rocks his shoulder. "I want you to eat something. Can you sit up?"

His eyes flutter open and he groans.

"Come on. You need to eat something. How long has it been?"

"A while," he says weakly.

"This will help you get better. It's chicken soup from Canter's."

She can tell by the way his eyes open further and he slowly edges himself up that he's surprised by her kindness. He struggles to sit up between coughing fits, but he finally does and she offers him the bowl.

They sit silently as he carefully takes sips. His lips are cracked and his eyes bloodshot.

"You look dehydrated. Have you been drinking anything but whiskey?"

He looks up at her with a blank stare and mutely shakes his head. He keeps sipping the soup. She's relieved at least to see him eating.

.

Returning to the kitchen, she finds bottles of water in the near-empty fridge and she carries one over to his bed with the cold medicine. After a few more bites he weakly hands her the bowl of soup.

"I can't eat anymore." He sounds defeated. It's unnerving seeing such a big, strong man so weak.

"Okay," she says gently as she sets the bowl down. "I'm going to put the rest in the fridge along with some other food I brought. But before I go, you need to take this."

"What is it?"

"It's just cold medicine. It'll help with your symptoms."

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, confusion weighing down his features.

"Because I'm crazy," she teases, smiling as she holds the medicine out.

He looks like he's going to respond, then thinks better of it. So he takes the pills and downs them with some of the bottled water before sinking back under the covers. "I'm so tired."

She stands then smoothes the blanket from where she sat. "Get some rest. Here, I'm leaving the water and your phone right here. Will you call me later to let me know you're okay?"

"Do you care?" he asks. His sad eyes reflect more than his illness; it's as if his spirit is bruised black and blue.

She smiles, hoping to comfort him. "I do. And you know what? I'm going to take your key and if I don't hear from you I'm going to come back. And we know you don't want that, so you better call me!" She keeps her voice playful, understanding that in this moment he needs a friend and maybe she's the only one around.

"Isabella, I'm so sorry…" His face is tormented.

"Shush," she says, pulling his blankets back around his neck. "Go to sleep. We'll talk later."

"Thank you," he whispers before his eyes fall shut again.

.

She cleans up, puts away the food, and lets herself out. As she pulls away she wonders about wedding bands, sterile lofts with big dramatic paintings, and a man broken because he may never get back what he's lost.

She also realizes that today, she finally met the real Edward Cullen.

.

On the way home she buys a latte and stops at the park to watch the kids in the playground. They tumble down the slides, swing across the monkey bars, and climb the structures, laughing, yelling, and throwing sand at each other-all without a care in the world. She feels strangely relaxed watching all the little people with their big moments.

The young boy in front of her is apparently trying to dig a hole to China. He works his yellow plastic shovel with total concentration and determination, pushing any other kid away that comes too close to the unstable edges of his project. When his mother gathers him to head home he throws a tantrum, flailing on the sand.

She looks up at Bella apologetically as he screams. "I just don't know what to do with him," she explains. "He does this every week."

_And yet she brings him back_. Bella ponders. We flail, we dig holes, we stumble, we fall down, and yet we keep coming back for more. Bella knows as she returns to her car that she's no wiser than the flailing young boy or his mother.

She'll be going back to Edward's…of that she is certain.

..~*~..

She calls him at six p.m. and it rings five times before going to voicemail-the same at seven p.m. By eight she's too nervous to sit still, and she gets in her car. This time she has brought along some juice, and more supplies.

When she lets herself into the loft, it's dark inside. She turns on a light and slowly approaches his bed. The blankets are now in a pile on the floor and he's lying in his boxer shorts on top of the sheets, a sheen of sweat covering him.

"Edward," she whispers.

His eyes spring open and then squint from the light. "Bella? Is that you?"

"Yes," she answers. "You didn't call me so I got worried."

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to call you? I'm so out of it; I don't even know what time it is." He curls up as he coughs again and then flops back down flat. "I'm so hot."

"Lemme see," she says, moving to the side of the bed. She rests her hand on his forehead. "Oh man, you're burning up."

He nods weakly and then starts coughing and wheezing. She can tell it's getting harder for him to breathe.

"I was dreaming about my mom and dad. There were talking to me," he says with a shaky voice."

Bella looks over at him, concerned. He's even worse than she realized.

"I think you have an infection. We've got to get you to a doctor. Do you think you can stand and walk with my help? Since it's late I'll have to take you to the emergency room."

"No!" he roars with a surprising ferocity, lifting himself up on his elbows. "No hospitals!" He collapses back into the sheets, spent.

"You could have pneumonia, Edward. We can't mess around with this."

"No. I hate hospitals. They kill people and I refuse to go. Promise me, Isabella."

She looks at him long and hard. She can tell he means business.

_Damn you…difficult man. _

She nods then starts to pace, trying to figure out what to do. She suddenly thinks of Angela and rushes to her purse to get her phone.

.

While she waits for Angela, Bella tries to get Edward to drink more water. She coerces him to take two Tylenol and rotates cool, wet cloths on and off his burning forehead. Despite her best efforts he's looking even worse. By the time Angela arrives, he's not making sense.

Angela gets to work quickly and listens to his lungs, confirming there's a crackle sound. She then takes his temperature. "We need to get him to a hospital—I want chest X-rays to see if there's fluid in his lungs. I'm calling an ambulance."

She leans over Edward. "I'm a doctor, Edward, and we're taking you to the hospital so you can get proper care."

"No," he growls. "I refuse due to my religious beliefs." His eyes are wild.

Angela arches her eyebrow and looks at Bella. "You weren't kidding about this one."

"Did you bring drugs and stuff with you like I asked?" Bella asks, trying not to panic.

Angela sighs. "Yes. But I don't like this. If there isn't significant improvement by tomorrow he won't have a choice."

Bella watches, concerned, as Angela gives him an antibiotic shot. She hands Bella a full round of Amoxicillin and Extra-Strength Mucinex while explaining the dosages. She looks at her watch.

"An Oxygen Concentrator would help if you could get him to take regular oxygen therapy. He has to tolerate the facemask or at least the cannula tubes in his nose. If you want, we can head over to my office and I'll loan you one of ours."

"It's so late. You'd do that?"

"He's seriously ill, Bella. If he's refusing to go to the hospital we need to give him every advantage we can. You should set up a humidifier, too." Before they head out, Angela helps her change his sheets by rolling him from one side of the bed to the other. He's so out of it, Bella's convinced that he doesn't even understand what's going on.

.

The night is eerily quiet outside the building where Angela has her offices. When Bella's car is loaded with the equipment and everything is explained to her one last time, she turns to give Angela a big hug. "You're such an amazing friend. I'll never forget this."

Angela smiles and wipes away Bella's tear. "You know I'd doing anything for you. You've always been there for Carly and I. You're family to us. Now call me in the morning with an update."

"I will."

.

When Bella returns to the loft, Edward is drifting in and out and seems delirious. She goes to put another cool rag on his forehead, and he suddenly grabs her hand.

"Lauren," he gasps.

She stills, not sure what she should do or say.

"Lauren, you came back." His voice wavers, full of raw emotion, and it shatters her.

Her instincts take over. She gently wipes his face down. "It's okay, Edward. It's okay. I'm here."

He visibly relaxes as she continues to touch and soothe him, slowly sliding the cool cloth across his chest and shoulders and up his neck.

"Don't leave again," he whispers.

Her breath catches to see him so open and vulnerable. For a moment she wishes she _were_ Lauren, there to heal not just his body but his broken heart.

"I'm not going anywhere, Edward," she says softly. "So you just focus on getting better."

His hand finds hers and holds it tight. His whisper is so quiet she barely makes out the words.

"Thank you."

.

.

* * *

_I love to hear from you...  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_I'm thrilled that Dodge and Burn is nominated on the Lemonade Stand this week. Please log on and vote for your favorite stories on the list.____ tehlemonadestand dot net / ?zx=a65e53fc78978504_  


_____(remove spaces and change dot to .) _See you next Saturday!  



	6. Chapter 6 A New Way

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy. One of the highlights of Comic Con was getting to spend time with three of these amazing women._

_.  
_

* * *

.

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter 6 / A New Way**

.

Bella notices a small couch by the kitchen and drags it next to the bed. The large windows of the loft are a black void in the night's quiet darkness. After giving Edward a breathing treatment and getting him to take a few sips of tea, she stretches out over the stiff cushions and dozes off. Every few hours, she's awakened by his coughing or her discomfort and so she gets up and repeats the treatment and tea.

By morning, he's more lucid and she's encouraged enough that she makes a quick trip for groceries. Back in the loft she gets him to eat some oatmeal and take his medicine. She notes that he finally has a bit of color and his fever's almost gone. As he rolls over and dozes off again, she settles back into the couch with relief.

_He's going to be okay._

_._

She's curled up against the couch armrest and nursing the last of her coffee when she realizes that he's awake and staring at her.

She smiles at him. "Hey. You're awake."

He smiles back. "Were you here all night?"

She nods.

Something must occur to him because he lifts his head so that he can scan the space. He looks back at her.

"Oh, God. Are you mad at me?"

She studies him for a moment before shaking her head.

"To discover that you live alone? I don't know if I'd say I'm mad…I'm disappointed you lied to me, but I wouldn't say I'm mad."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't honest."

"We all have our secrets, Edward."

He lies quietly and watches her. He can't believe after everything that happened that night and what she now knows, that she's here taking care of him.

When their eyes meet again she smiles softly at him.

"You know that irritating friend of yours?" he asks.

She laughs. "You mean Michael?"

"Yeah, him. He was right about one thing."

"Really? What's that?"

"You really are something special."

She looks at him for a moment, but it's almost too much, so she gets up and cleans off the accumulation on his bedside table.

"I'm going to make you some more tea."

.

He's sitting up when she returns. She tries not to look at his defined chest and shoulders when she hands him the tea. The man is way too handsome for his own good.

"So how long has Lauren been gone?" she asks simply, as she settles back down on the couch.

"Gone?" He rubs his free hand roughly over his face. "Actually, I moved in here over a year ago, after I found out about her affair. She's still in our house."

"Wow, it feels like you just moved in. You haven't settled in much."

"No, I guess I kept waiting for her to come get me."

"And…"

"It doesn't look like that's going to happen. From what I hear, she's still with the guy." His expression falls as he looks around his place. "I'm pathetic."

"I don't think you're pathetic because you still love your wife. What is the human spirit without hope?"

"Yes, I've been living on hope, but I'm almost out of gas. I'm pretty much getting by on the fumes lately. Alice, my cousin's wife, says our marriage was over before the affair. I guess we'd grown apart more than I'd realized. I've mastered the art of denial."

"Yes, but the fact that you still wear your ring says a lot."

"I guess I've been trying to convince myself and the world for so long that my marriage isn't really over that I feel like if I don't wear it I'm admitting defeat."

"I think it's beautiful that you've loved your wife that much. It says a lot about you."

He shrugs sadly. "A lot of good it did me. I hoped we'd be able to work on it and figure out what went wrong, but she served me with divorce papers in January. They're still in my desk drawer." He nods towards the desk.

"I'm so sorry," she says softly.

"Yeah, me too."

Bella gets up and opens the balcony door. The fresh air breezes over them and makes everything a little lighter. Edward sips his tea slowly as he gazes out over the view.

After a few quiet minutes of them both lost in thought, Bella turns back toward him.

"Do you know the serenity prayer?"

"Is that the one about accepting the things you cannot change?"

She smiles, not surprised that he focuses on that part. "Yes, but it's also about finding the courage to change the things you can."

"Yes, I know." He sighs.

"You may not be able to change these circumstances, but you can still live your life with courage and change what you can. Sometimes happiness is closer than you think, just waiting to be found."

"I don't know about that," he says quietly, tolerating her greeting card-speak.

"I believe there's a purpose to everything. There's a reason you and I were supposed to meet and become friends. Maybe even this wretched illness was your body trying to purge some of the pain out of you. It brought me here to help you, and who would have believed that after the way we parted."

He nods as he listens and suddenly sits up straighter, looking intense.

"What have I become? What _is_ my life, Isabella?"

"I believe it's whatever you want it to be," she replies.

.

After lunch she convinces him to take a shower and she changes his sheets again. She hunts through his piles of books so that while he takes his breathing treatment she can read to him. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply as she reads aloud Raymond Carver's short story, _Cathedral_. He almost looks content.

When he's done, she cleans up one more time and gets ready to head out. He looks forlorn.

"Hey, no sad faces, Mister. I need to take a shower and deal with _my_ life for a bit. I'm going to bring you dinner later and make sure you take your meds. After that you're on your own.

"You're not going to sleep on the couch again?" He grins.

"Ah, no," she teases back.

"Will you read to me again tonight? I liked that."

"Maybe…if you're nice." She's glad to see him coming to life again.

"I'll be so nice that you'll never want to leave."

She arches her brows. "Then you better get a much more comfortable couch."

.

..~*~..

.

She's putting things together in her kitchen when Leah calls.

"Hey, woman, where've you been? I've been trying to reach you since last night."

Bella's so tired that she doesn't think before she speaks. "I've been at Edward's. I just got home a while ago."

"That man whore?" Leah howls into the phone.

"I thought we agreed he wasn't a man whore, just a confused man."

"Let us not be derailed by semantics. The real question is why you were with him and what about his wife?"

"Today I learned that his wife left him over a year ago. She's already served divorce papers."

"Oh great, so he's damaged goods who lies to women about his situation. Why are you even giving him the time of day? This guy sounds like a real winner."

"I don't know, Leah. I called him to get his address to return his money and he was incredibly sick and alone, and the mom side of me took over. I ended up taking care of him."

"You took care of him? Oh, that's rich. Why in the world would you do that? Are you Mother Teresa or something?"

The more Leah rants, the less Bella cares. She's hasn't cared for a while about what people think of her unpredictable behavior, and she's not going to start now.

She can't resist being just a bit provocative. Leah is fun to rile up. "You know what else? I'm cooking for him right now and then I'm heading back over there to take care of him some more."

"Jesus, Bella. Did zombies come down and suck out your brain? Why are you allowing yourself to be taken advantage of?"

"I don't feel like I'm being taken advantage of. He didn't ask for my help; he asked me to leave when I first got there. But it's hard to just walk from someone you once cared about when you see them completely broken by life and circumstances."

"Aren't you still pissed at him? If I were him I'd be afraid you'd poison his soup."

"Well, I was disappointed with him for lying to me, but at least I know now that he wasn't actually cheating on his wife. He lied to me about being married, Leah. Usually the crime is when a man hides his marriage."

"True, but…"

"I can offer him friendship without compromising myself. I've made peace with what happened, and I think we can help each other. There's a reason we were meant to meet. Don't you think?"

"Hell, I don't know. But promise me if he's an ass again you'll forget about this friendship thing."

"I promise."

"I've always said you are too good, Bella."

.

..~*~..

.

"Did you bake me something?" he asks with a grin, when she returns holding a platter of cookies and a bag of food.

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him sitting on the couch strumming his guitar. He's got on old jeans and a T-shirt and although she can see how weak he still is, he's a million times better than the night before.

"Yeah, I spent my afternoon baking for you because I haven't done quite enough for you yet," she teases.

"You have a generous heart, Isabella."

"That I do." She unloads the food as he quietly plays. She looks over and notices that he must have shaved while she was out. "You're looking much better."

He nods. "The shower helped a lot."

He watches Isabella when she's not looking. She seems at home, opening cabinets and moving through the kitchen with more comfort than he's ever seemed to have. It's good to have her there. It gives the place a life it never had before.

Dinner is a stew with good bread and butter. He can't eat much yet, but she tells him how long to microwave it when he wants more. She makes him take his antibiotics and goes over the dosages. Finally, they do one more breathing treatment and he gets so relaxed that he starts to fall asleep again.

She takes his arm and leads him to his bed. "Come on, you need to lie down. Why don't you just take off your jeans, you can sleep in your boxers and T-shirt."

He leans against her half asleep and starts to fumble with his waistband.

"Here," she says gently as she helps him, popping the snap and pulling down his fly. She eases the jeans off his hips and lets them fall to his ankles. He watches her as she sinks down to the floor and finishes pulling them off as he sits on the bed, too exhausted to help. He has to turn away, he's so moved by how she's cared for him. He thinks of how his father would have loved everything about this woman.

As she gets everything in order and pulls the bedding around him, he whispers, "I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you've done. You're an angel, Isabella."

She smiles and then settles down on the couch watching him until she's assured that he's sound asleep. Once she's certain, she gets to work. An hour later when she finally lets herself out, she leaves with a full heart, knowing that she was able to help him when he needed it the most.

.

..~*~..

.

He doubts he's in Heaven, but the melodic sound of chimes makes him wonder. If this is Heaven, it's a nice place with clean sheets, a cool breeze blowing over you, and the warm sun on your face.

He opens his eyes slowly and blinks. "Why is the balcony door open? And where's that sound coming from?" He looks up and notices the wind chime from Isabella's back porch hanging just outside the door.

He sits up to look for her, but the couch is empty.

With the next breeze the chimes softly ring. It's a gentle, ethereal sound. It soothes him.

He slowly realizes that something's different about his place. His eyes scan the loft with wonder. Was there a party while he slept?

There's color everywhere, bright bunches of Gerber daisies in orange, yellow, and fuchsia on the tabletops and those Mexican paper string of banners he's seen on Olvera Street strung from one end of the space to the other. Each colorful square has delicate cut-outs of festive shapes. There's even a thick blanket striped with every color draped over the little couch.

He laughs out loud. _What has she done?_

When he reaches for his phone, he notices a card on his bedside table. Next to it is a miniature artist's easel displaying a print of a tiny painting. He studies it, then looks over to his huge painting and shakes his head as he opens the card.

_Mr. C~_

_I figured it was time for more color in your life. _

_It's never too late to look at things in a new way. Even the tiniest painting can make a big impression._

_~Bella_

_.  
_

She picks up after two rings.

"I see we can add decorator to your many lists of accomplishments," he says.

"You like it? Well, you said you didn't want me to leave, so I thought I'd leave an impression of me," Bella says happily.

"My favorite part is the little tiny painting on my bedside table."

"Oh, that's not the only one. There's a few others scattered about. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm feeling much better. You know what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"Like it's time to look at things in a new way."

He can almost see her victorious smile through the phone.

.

..~*~..

.

"Have you been a good patient?" Angela teases Edward while she checks his vitals. Bella can tell by the way she's handling him that Angela is pleased with the progress of his recovery.

"What do you think, Ms. Isabella? Do you think I've been good?" He gives Bella a wide grin.

He's been pretty charming since he's been feeling better, Bella notes. Everything about him feels lighter.

"Pretty good," she agrees. "He's stayed on top of his prescriptions." She feels a little awkward watching his exam, but he insisted that she come into the examining room with him.

"Just 'pretty good'?" He looks indignant.

Angela takes a step back, folds her arms over her chest, and gives him a mock stern look. "Yes, Mr. Cullen. I heard you were rather demanding. Baked goods, frequent visits, and I heard you overused the nebulizer machine."

"Oh, yeah…where can I buy one of those? I got the best ideas when I was using that thing. It's a great high."

"I had a hard time getting him to bring it back," Bella adds.

Angela makes some notes in his folder before closing it. "You don't need that, Edward. Just keep up your exercise routine once you're strong enough. Anyway, you're looking good. You clearly have robust health to bounce back so quickly."

"I'm still tired all the time though," he complains.

"Yes, it's still going to take a while before you're back to normal. I don't know if you understand how seriously ill you were. I don't like thinking about what might have happened if Bella hadn't gotten involved and called me."

He reaches over and pulls on her shirttail. "Look at that…you saved me." He smiles warmly.

Angela's expression gets somber. "I know you're being playful, Mr. Cullen, but I'm serious. There's every possibility that Bella did indeed save you." She gives Bella a hug goodbye and then shakes Edward's hand before heading out to see the next patient.

"Saint Isabella," he whispers as he stands up and buttons his shirt.

"That's me." She rolls her eyes, but underneath all the humor they both know that they're forever connected by their journey in the last week.

"Come on," he says, opening the door for her. "I know you have a shoot this afternoon, but let me take you to lunch first."

"Where are you going to take me?"

"Somewhere fancy…fit for a saint."

.

..~*~..

.

"Okay, another ten," Leah barks.

Bella makes a face and starts doing crunches again.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, nine, eight, seven…"

Bella stops. "What the hell kind of counting is that?"

"It's the counting that gave you your flat stomach. So quit yapping and get to it."

When Bella finishes the last round she rolls over and groans. "I think your ponytail's too tight today. You're being especially hard on me."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So tell me…how are things with_ that_ man? Has he kept his hands off you?"

Bella gives her an exasperated look as she gets up. "You know when you finally meet him, you aren't going to remember his real name."

"When am I going to meet him? Maria keeps asking, too."

"When I know you're going to behave."

Leah tosses her the medicine ball. "Seriously, Bella, what's going on with you two?"

"It's good. We're friends and it's nice. Things are easy between us. Comfortable."

"So you're over your attraction to him?"

"You're sounding like Michael now. No, I doubt I'll ever be over my attraction to him, but I'm clear we're better as friends. Besides, he has a lot of stuff to come to terms with about his ex and he knows it. At least now he's working on it and not just in denial."

"Is he still playing music for you?"

"Yeah, he says he owes me a lifetime of sessions after what I did for him."

Leah raises her eyebrows but doesn't say anything.

"What?" Bella asks.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

Bella folds her arms in anticipation.

"You'd be smart not to drink when you guys are together. This whole 'friends' thing is charming and all, but get enough booze in you and the truth will come out. I'd be willing to bet hard money that you'd end up fucking like bunnies."

"Ugh! Do you think I have no control of my actions?" Bella asks defensively.

"Don't get all haughty with me, missy. You are a very sexual and sensuous woman and you better believe he knows it. I think you guys are skating on UST thin ice."

"UST?"

"Unresolved sexual tension."

As Bella tosses the medicine ball back, she feels the fire move up her thighs and across her chest just thinking about Edward like that.

_Unresolved sexual tension indeed._

.

..~*~..

.

Edward paces back and forth in his loft. Finally finding his resolve, he goes to his desk and pulls open the drawer. The damn document is lying right where he left it many months ago, and now it glares up at him in all its stark white reality.

Carefully lifting it out of the drawer like it's fragile, he thumbs through it nervously, once, twice, a third time, before he finally sits down and begins to read it. His stomach curls at the word "divorce" and his heart thumps every time he reads Lauren's name in the jumble of legal speak.

At one point, he throws the document down on the desktop and curls over, resting his face in his hands while his elbows dig into his knees.

_Damn it all._

He takes a sharp breath and picks the papers up again. Over the next hour, he goes through this process over and over, each pass searing him like a sunburn. As with a failed marriage, there's a price you pay for staying in the sun too long.

He's raw and red, his edges on fire, but he also senses that if he perseveres this will be the worst of it. He will eventually shed this skin and start anew.

When he's finished reading the manifesto of marriage-failure he takes his phone and steps over to his sliding glass door and pulls it wide open. He steps forwards and leans over the railing before dialing his brother-in-law at the office.

"Emmett McCarty's office."

"Hey, Kathy, it's Edward...is he around?"

"Oh, Edward, he's going to be so glad to hear from you. Hold on."

"I can't believe it," Emmett says when he gets on the line.

"Sorry, I know…I've been hibernating and out of touch."

"Yeah, Rosie's been worried about you. How the hell are you, anyway?"

"I'm doing all right. I'm finally trying to get my shit together."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it. You know Rosie's going to want you to come for dinner. The kids have been asking about you. Eric's been taking guitar lessons. Rosie thinks he has your gift."

"Really? I want to hear him play." Edward smiles, and immediately feels bad realizing how much he's missed. "Well, tell her I'll call and we'll set something up."

"Will do. She's going to be so happy."

"And one other thing, Emmett."

"Sure man, what is it?"

"I'm ready to start talking about the divorce."

.

.

* * *

_I love to hear from you..._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!_


	7. Chapter 7 Castles and Other Galaxies

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

_Thanks so much to JaimeArkin for reccing Dodge & Burn on the Lemonade Stand, you guys for voting it as one of the fics of the week, and Lost Intimidation for writing such a beautiful review. It meant so much to me.  
_

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Seven / Castles and Other Galaxies**

.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Edward asks.

"I'm preparing to go see the stars. I want to soar into the galaxies," Bella replies.

"What?"

_He's kind of missed crazy Isabella, but it appears she's back with a vengeance._

"I'm feeling a need to expand deeper into the universe."

"Have you been drinking? It's only four o'clock."

She laughs. "No, I'm going up to the Griffith Park Planetarium. I just finished printing and it's a glorious afternoon. So I'm going to pack myself a picnic dinner and head up there, then see the show. It always inspires me."

"What show?"

She gasps. "You mean to tell me you haven't seen seen _Centered in the Universe_? How long did you say you've lived in Los Angeles?"

"Too long," Edward says with a sigh.

"But it sounds like you haven't really fully _lived_ here."

"Hey, that's not fair…just because I don't do touristy stuff like sticking my feet in the footprints at Grauman's doesn't mean I haven't lived."

"Are you kidding? I love touristy stuff. As a matter of fact, a couple months ago I rode that double-decker bus tour through Hollywood. I met the most charming couple from Ireland that day. They ended up coming to my house for dinner and I did a short session in the studio with them."

"You brought home complete strangers you met on a tour bus?"

"Oh, yes! We had the most fun. I can't remember when I've laughed that much. Hey that reminds me, I need to make proofs of that film and send them some prints."

"Can we get back to our original topic?"

"The stage is yours, Mr. C."

"Are you going alone to expand into the universe?"

"Yes, I usually go alone. I thoroughly enjoy hanging out with myself."

"I'm sure you do, you're endlessly entertaining. Can I crash the party and come with you? Of course, only if you're in the mood for company."

"Company…not so much. But I'm always in the mood for you."

She blushes as soon as she says it, realizing it sounds too forward, but she can't see the way he's grinning into the phone.

"Great. When shall I pick you up?" he asks.

"How about in an hour? I'm just making sandwiches, is that okay?"

"Sure. Can I bring some wine?"

"Yes, that'd be lovely. And bring a jacket, too."

"See you soon."

.

Bella looks around briefly and then motions for Edward to follow her as she slips behind the low wall that runs along the edges of the planetarium. He smiles widely watching this daring woman. She descends a mild slope about twenty feet until she steps onto a small, level plateau that is hidden from above. She methodically pulls one of the portable chairs off her shoulder and pulls it apart until it looks like something you can actually sit on.

Meanwhile, Edward sets down the cooler and gets to work opening the bottle of wine. When they finally sit down and face the view, his eyes widen with surprise.

"Wow. Unbelievable." He's forgotten that the planetarium is on a hilltop just above Hollywood, and the views are incredible.

She waves her arms dramatically in a sweeping motion. "The world at our feet."

"Literally," he agrees, as he hands her a plastic goblet of wine. "Cheers."

She lifts her drink to him before taking a sip and then looking out in the distance. "I wish I were a bird so I could fly over this great kingdom. Can you imagine how glorious that would be?"

Edward nods and turns to study her. She's lit up with the golden cast of the late afternoon sun as it sinks low in the sky.

"I remember when I was a little girl I made up my mind that I would figure out how to fly. I made several elaborate life-size pairs of wings. I even recall my mom helping me, which looking back now is a bit strange. I mean, she knew I'd never be able to actually fly."

Edward wonders what Isabella's mother was like. She must've been something special to raise such a child.

She has a faraway look in her eyes. "Maybe she just thought it was important for me to believe that I could fly, even though I never would."

"I don't know about that. If there is anyone who I would bet on flying, it would be you."

She leans over and rests her hand on his forearm. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Now I'm sweet?" He laughs. "That's not very manly of me. I better work on that."

She shakes her head, laughing. "You're plenty manly, don't you worry about that."

.

They enjoy their picnic dinner as the sun falls. When the hills are cast in purple shadows and the quiet of night begins to drift in, they pack up and take their gear to the car so they can go see the show.

In the theater, he finds himself leaning closer to her like a magnet. She settles back in her reclining seat and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. It looks like she's meditating or something.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Getting ready," she answers, still not opening her eyes. "I like to be calm, with my mind open, when I see this."

"Is this one of those films you should see stoned?"

"No, but that's a good idea. We can do that next time."

He scoffs loudly. "You're trying to ruin me, Isabella, leading me down your dark paths."

"Quit talking, you!" she warns, reaching over and pushing him back into his seat. "Here, close your eyes and take a really deep breath."

He tries, but then starts coughing, the residual of the pneumonia creeping back up on him.

She gently pats his chest. "Oh, I'm sorry—I wasn't thinking," she says as he struggles to stop coughing. He finally settles back down.

When she goes to remove her hand, he catches it and pushes it back on his chest. "Keep patting. I like that little rubbing part, too. That feels good." He smiles as she continues, then silently curses the lights that begin to dim, signaling the start of the presentation. Her magic hand pulls away as she turns her attention to the glowing curved ceiling and away from where he wants it to be.

He looks up towards the ceiling as well as the orchestral music starts up and the presenter steps forward. Her rich voice makes the words come alive.

"_We are drawn into the Earth's own shadow as it lets the stars take over the sky."_

The ceiling is now covered with shimmering stars. Edward relaxes into his seat.

"_Nothing can stop the cycle of time and change. Energy always flows from where it is more concentrated to where there is less."_

Edward looks over at Isabella, his favorite source of energy. Her face is lit in starlight and her eyes bright as she listens intently to every word the narrator speaks.

Asteroids soar across the ceiling, planets come into view and leave again. He feels like he is in a trance as he listens intently.

"Time is a one way arrow to the future. Time is a gift, an opportunity. We can't fight the arrow of time."

Something in that thought disturbs Edward, but he can't figure out why. He ponders it, but moments later he's distracted by sounds separate from the performance. He turns around in his seat and realizes that the young couple behind them are making out. He smiles and settles back to watch the show, but during the sequence where the night sky begins to slowly rotate, they get especially moany and Bella turns around to see what all the fuss is about. When she turns back her eyes are wide. She presses her lips to his ear.

"Oh my, they're really going at it. For some reason this has always been a popular make-out spot."

He glances back. "The film must inspire them," he whispers playfully. "Is that why you brought me here?"

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the show. For the rest of the presentation, Edward imagines what it would be like if he and Isabella were like that young couple. He could slowly slide his hand under her skirt, gently stroking the soft skin of her inner thighs as his hand moved higher and higher. Would her legs spread open, until they were pressed against the sides of the seat as her head fell back? He fantasizes she'd push her hand over his fly, letting out a low moan when she confirmed that he was completely aroused for her. They would move skin-on-skin in the dark, the narrator talking about the mysteries of outer space while he uncovered the mysteries of Isabella.

How can he focus on black holes and meteors when this otherworldly force next to him is pulling him into her orbit?

..~*~..

She can tell the whole way back to the car that he's distracted. It's as if she can feel his intense gaze on her, but she can't tell what he's thinking. He couldn't have meant the crack about her bringing him there to seduce him when he's the one that invited himself along.

They're halfway back to her place when he suddenly turns toward her. "Hey, would you like to meet my cousin, Jasper, and his wife, Alice? They have a bar and small club on Fairfax near Sixth. It's usually pretty quiet on Tuesday nights."

He sounds so happy that she wouldn't think of turning him down. Besides, she's intrigued at the idea of meeting someone from his family. Lauren's the only one she's heard any details about. "Okay, sure," she replies, smiling.

The club is casual and comfortable with lots of wood and dark red walls. Bella feels relaxed as soon as she steps inside. Edward puts his hand at the small of her back and leads her to the bar. The bartender is busy working the other side, but when he turns toward them to get their order his face lights up as he spots Edward and then notices Bella.

"Edward!" he says, grinning as he looks over at Bella. "Is this…"

"Yeah, this is my friend Isabella. Isabella, this is Jasper."

Jasper shakes her hand kindly. "I've heard a lot about you, Isabella. It's great to meet you."

Bella warms right up to Jasper and they start to discuss the club and how he and Alice manage it. A moment later, Alice comes in from the back and her face lights up when he sees them.

"This is Isabella isn't it?" She steps over and gives Bella a hug.

"Well, most people call me Bella, except for this guy." Bella playfully pushes Edward on the shoulder.

"Because I'm special," he teases.

"Well then, Bella it is," Alice confirms, looking over at Edward. "Have you guys eaten yet?"

"We did. Isabella packed a picnic and we had an evening at the Griffith Park Observatory."

Alice raises her eyebrows and Edward can imagine what she's thinking.

"That sounds like so much fun!" she says. She turns to Jasper. "Hey, baby, let's go do that soon. I haven't been up there in forever."

"Sounds good to me," He replies smiling.

"You'll have to show them our special spot for dining," Edward says to Bella.

"Why don't we all go together," Bella says. "You pick a day that works for you with your hours and we'll do it."

"I like her," Alice says to Edward. "I think I'll keep her." She turns toward her husband.

"Hey, Jazz, why don't you get Edward to help you figure out that microphone? I left it on the desk. Bella and I can sit out here and keep an eye out while getting to know each other better."

"Good idea, babe," he agrees.

Jasper pulls Edward into the back and after offering Bella a drink, Alice leads her to a booth and they slide inside. They smile politely at each other and then Alice leans in like she has a secret she finally gets to tell.

"Hey, I want to thank you for standing by Edward, Bella. I know what a good friend you've been to him and how you took care of him while he was sick. We always call and check in on him when we don't see him for a few days, but he never bothers to return the messages so we didn't think anything of it. I still can't believe he didn't call us for help. "

"I know; he's kind of stubborn, isn't he? I had to battle with him to be_ allowed_ to help him."

"Yet, somehow you got through that brick wall. So to say I'm impressed is an understatement."

"I'm rather tenacious." Bella laughs. "Did he tell you how pushy I was to get him to come play for me when I first hired him?"

"He did. And if you don't mind me being really forward…"

"I don't mind," replies Bella.

Alice looks up down at the table but then back up at Bella. "Edward also told me that you know the truth about Lauren leaving him now…and you're still friends."

"Well, I was disappointed he hadn't told me early on, but we've worked through it. He's been a good friend to me, too."

Bella looks over, noticing that the boys have returned to the bar. Edward looks a little nervous like he imagines Alice is interrogating her, but he finally smiles and waves to her and she waves back. When she looks back at Alice she sees her brush a tear off her cheek.

"Is everything all right?" Bella asks, concerned.

"Yes, yes," Alice says, nodding. "We've just been so concerned about him and he seems so hopeful now."

Bella worries that she's being given too much credit, but she smiles and squeezes Alice's hand. "I'm so glad. You know he's helped me, too. It's meant so much to have him play music for me. He's so talented." Bella looks in the distance toward the small stage. "Do you think he could ever play here, in your club again…like a special night?"

"We'd love to do that. I can't tell you how many times we've pushed him, but he always refuses. It's too bad because he used to have quite a following around here."

"Well if it's all right with you I'm going to work on that. He's too wonderful not to share his music with others."

"Sounds good to me. You figure it out and we're in."

Bella looks over and Edward nods for them to come back to the bar.

"Shall we join them?"

"By all means, let's."

.

As Edward walks Bella to her house, he shakes his head and chuckles. "I knew it," he says.

"Knew what?"

"You totally charmed them. They adore you already."

"Really?" She looks more pleased than surprised. "Well, I think they're pretty wonderful too."

At the door, he pulls her into his arms for a lingering hug.

"Thank you." He lets out a deep sigh.

She knows he's thanking her for so much more than dinner and a show.

"You liked traveling with me through the galaxy tonight?"

"I did…and dinner on top of the world. Did you mind that I came? You'd intended to go alone."

She turns toward him and pretends to fuss, straightening his collar and then pulling his leather jacket closed. Finally she looks up at him and smiles. "How could I mind, when it's you?"

He's overcome with the desire to kiss her and it rocks him, but his memory of their last kiss and resulting separation stops him cold. He takes a step back and pushes his fingers through his hair nervously until she turns toward her door and unlocks it.

Once she's safely inside, he slowly walks back to his car. Who would have thought that this modern day Suzy Sunshine with the swirly skirts and wild ideas would begin to capture not just so many of his thoughts, but a part of his heart as well.

.

..~*~..

.

A couple of days later, when he approaches her front door it's wide open so he sticks his head inside.

"Isabella?"

_Nothing. No response._

"Isabella, where are you?" he calls out louder.

The silence is unnerving as he walks through the house towards the kitchen. Her purse is wide open on the desk, but there's no sign of her.

"Isabella!" His voice is more panicked now. He rushes to the family room where just outside the French doors, he's presented with the most curious sight.

Occupying a large part of her lawn is one of those inflated bouncy structures that he's seen set up for little kids birthday parties. His eyes quickly scan the backyard but he sees neither children, nor any sign of a party. A moment later his eyes flicker back to the inflated castle when he sees a head pop up in the mesh covered window in the upper part of the structure.

And there it is again, hair flying and a big grin…it's Isabella. With the next jump, she flails her arms around her head as she jumps higher.

He takes a moment to gather himself before opening up the door and stepping outside.

"Isabella!" he yells again, hoping she'll hear him this time.

She looks over at him and grins as she keeps jumping.

"Hi, Mr. C! Come inside and jump with me!"

"Woman! Your front door was wide open!"

She jumps especially high and kicks her leg up.

"Do you like my moves?" she calls out to him.

"Isabella! Your front door!" He waves his arm toward the front of the house dramatically.

"What?" she asks as she jumps one last time and then lands on her butt to stop her momentum.

"I keep trying to tell you that your front door was wide open."

"Oh, dear. I must have forgotten to close it after I grocery shopped this morning."

He shakes his head. _This woman is going to make me crazy with worry._

"Someone may have been in the house-your purse was wide open, too."

"Oh, that's always wide open…there's so many little things to take in and out. I doubt anyone came in and went through my purse."

"Don't you want to check?" he asks.

"No. I want to jump. Besides, if they took anything they probably need it more than I do so I'm not going to worry about it. Come on, you want to jump?"

"No." He shakes his head firmly.

"Awww, please?" She reaches her hands out toward him. "Do it for me."

He shakes his head, laughing. "I don't think so."

"Ahh, come on!"

"How old are you anyway?"

"One hundred and seven, or forty-three, or six…what difference does it make?"

He shakes his head. "Was one of those correct?"

"Maybe," she teases. She flops down flat on the pillowy plastic surface.

"Okay, I'm coming in," he warns her. He crawls in and then settles on his stomach, lying next to her.

"So what's this about?"

"It's my momma's birthday. I do this for her birthday every year in her memory."

"How long has she been gone?"

"She died three years ago after a long illness."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Me too. I loved her so much. This is her home, actually. She helped me raise Jacob here. She was always there for me. For us."

"So why the bounce thing?"

"When Jacob was four she helped me throw a birthday party for him and we invited the kids from the preschool. She went all out, got the bounce house, hired a guy that brought unusual animals in for the kids to see and touch."

"Unusual animals?"

"Stuff like weird-colored big lizards and hairy, huge spiders. The whole thing freaked me out, but Jacob loved it. She knew what he loved and that he was really into animals."

"Sounds like she was a wonderful grandmother."

"She was, always taking him to the zoo and the library to get animal books. For years I thought he was going to be a vet, but then after what my mom went through he changed to wanting to do medical research."

"That's impressive."

"Yes, Mom always inspired him in big ways…even when she didn't realize she had."

"So how does the bounce house fit into all of that?"

"Well, the party was a lot of work for us, but Jacob had the best time. After everyone left he crashed so I put him down for a nap and then poured glasses of wine for Mom and I to finally sit down and relax. And when I went to find her guess where she was?"

He laughs. "In the bouncy house?"

"Yes, sir. And she was laughing so hard as she jumped that I got to laughing and it was just one of those moments, you know? That moment encapsulated what I loved most about my mom."

"Sounds like she was full of life, just like you."

Bella smiles softly at him. "She was. I miss her."

Edward rolls over on his back and they lie there silently for a moment looking up at the bright blue ceiling. He can hear her breaths, heavy in her sorrow. He slowly reaches over and takes her hand in his.

"I know. I understand."

"All those years she made me believe in myself. Here I was a young girl with a baby, and the father not in the picture. She made me believe I could do anything, and that Jacob was so lucky to have a great mom like me. She never made us feel like we were less…never."

"I wish I could have met her. She sounds wonderful."

Never letting go of his hand, Bella rolls to her side to face him. "Tell me about your dad, Edward. What was he like?"

"He was this amazing old-fashioned, up-standing guy. He believed in family and honor, loyalty and respect. And God, he loved my mom. She was the sun and the moon for him."

"I admire him already," she says softly.

"He would have loved you," he says, squeezing her hand.

He's surprised how comfortable he feels here with her, holding her hand like it's something they do every day.

"I'm not too 'out there' for him?"

"Well maybe a bit." He grins. "I don't think he'd care for that wild colored skirt you wear. But he would admire how caring you are. He'd also be impressed that you have your own thriving business and that you've raised a son who's now going to help people with the work he's learning in college."

Bella takes her free hand and presses it over her heart.

"That's so lovely."

"It's true."

"What type of work did your dad do?"

"He taught economics at USC. We found out later that he also did a lot of investing."

"Smart man. And your mom?"

"She taught school, mainly music. When I was in high school, she developed a program bringing music education to kids from some of the low-income schools in a nearby area."

"They sound too good to be true."

"Pretty much. I mean they weren't perfect. She didn't handle her illness well. She was the worst patient ever and my dad just sunk into depression over it. I guess we all did. I know that's why his Parkinson's got so much worse."

"What did she have?"

"Melanoma. It was on the back of her scalp hidden in her hair and it wasn't caught in time. They had been so focused on his Parkinson's treatment that I don't think she was as aware of her body as she normally would've been. Once the cancer was in her blood stream it was just a matter of time."

"Oh, damn."

"I know. She was gone within a year. It just about killed him."

"As much as you loved your parents, you've really been through hell in the journey of losing them."

He nods. "You know things had been golden for so long that I took it all for granted. I was doing really well with the music…I was turning down jobs. Lauren seemed happy; she was successful, too. She'd just gotten promoted at her agency before Mom got sick. Even Dad's diagnosis a few years before that hadn't floored us because he was getting state of the art treatment at USC Medical and managing his symptoms."

"You couldn't have known what was coming. It probably was good that you didn't know."

He nods. "I suppose. We were oblivious…traveling, living the high life. Yes, we were stressed out and complained about work, but looking back we had it so easy. We had the world by the tail."

"And then…"

"It all started to fall apart, piece by piece. It was like a slow disintegration of my life and I didn't know how to handle it. I took over managing my dad's care and it was so hard because he had essentially given up. I was often overwhelmed and drained. Lauren couldn't handle my moods and got really frustrated when my jobs started to go away and she had to carry more of the financial load for our life. She became very angry and bitter, like I was a disappointment. And I was so worn down worrying about Dad and trying to manage his care that I couldn't focus on what was happening with her."

Bella starts to say something, but she stops herself. She looks frustrated hearing about Lauren.

"I was stupid. I'd get home late from his place and she wouldn't be home. She'd supposedly be 'out with the girls.' Then one night she just didn't come home at all."

Bella gasps. "Oh, no. How awful."

Edward looks up toward the ceiling as he continues. "We had 'the talk' the following night. She was in love with her client, a commercial director. She needed some time to figure things out. Maybe she needed me to fight for her, but I was so stunned and Dad was in his final stages…I moved to the loft to give her space. Maybe she thinks I just gave up. I got the divorce papers five months later."

Bella gets quiet as she thinks. She finally speaks up. "If you still believe in Lauren and your marriage, it's not too late to fight for her."

"I don't know. I just told Emmett that I'm finally ready to face the divorce."

"Emmett?"

"He's my brother-in-law, and my lawyer. He and my sister Rose live in Manhattan Beach with their three kids. Both them and Japer and Alice have been waiting for me to move on. I don't think they're big fans of Lauren."

Bella moves her thumb softly back and forth over his knuckles as she watches him. She realizes that he hasn't worn his wedding band since he was sick.

He turns back and looks at her when she starts to respond.

"It doesn't matter what they think. What matters is what's in your heart. Maybe you'd needed to get your strength back to give your best fight for your wife. Maybe you're ready now to not just fight, but to win."

"Was I holding on to the idea of Lauren, or just the idea that marriage is a commitment you don't walk away from? I don't know," he admits again, quietly.

She doesn't know if he means that he doesn't know if he can win her back, or if he no longer knows what he wants.

"If you were my man, I'd sure want you to fight for me."

"Would you now?" he asks, grinning.

"Hell yes," she responds, smiling, her eyes dancing with mirth. "I'd want you to cross a roaring river on foot, slay the fiercest dragon, and spear the savage man who had captured me right through his heart."

He laughs and pulls her over close to him until she is tucked under his arm, her head resting on his chest. "And what would I do with you, Maiden Isabella, once I had you?"

"You know, the usual stuff. You'd claim me as yours again and carry me off on your horse, back to your castle."

"Is it a bigger castle than this one?" he jokes, waving his free arm towards the entrance of the bouncy castle.

He feels her nod against his shoulder. "Much bigger, much grander. It's built of fine stone, not just air."

"And once we were there, in our castle?"

"Well, I'd leave the next part up to you. You'd claimed me after all. I'm sure you would have ideas."

"Perhaps some bodice ripping." He laughs. "Isn't that what usually happens in those historical romance stories?"

"Yeah, lots of claiming, bodice ripping, and other stuff." She huffs. "That would be good."

"Really good," he agrees, taking a deep breath.

She wiggles. "I may have to start jumping again soon, this is getting me all worked up."

He pulls her tighter into him. "No. No more jumping. I'll be quiet now, I promise."

For the next while they lie silently arm in arm, cushioned in the plastic womb of their castle. As they let their past stories and unspoken desires settle over them, they each wonder about endings and beginnings.

He holds her and tries to understand how she she's worked such magic. She's tenderly peeling him open so that all the shadows in his heart are exposed to the light.

.

.

* * *

_._

_It's been a rough week, so it's lovely to remember how it feels to fall in love. Hugs to all of you.  
_

_Thanks for reading_

_xoxo_

_abbie_


	8. Chapter 8 Spark and Fire

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Eight / Spark and Fire**

.

"You seem nervous," Bella observes as Edward darts in and out of traffic.

"I am," he agrees. "If you knew Rose, you'd be nervous too."

"Okay, now I'm nervous," she offers.

"She hates it when I'm late, but this damn 405 traffic. It's maddening!"

"You said that you haven't been to see them in a while."

"Yeah, too long. I didn't think the kids needed to see me in such a lousy state. Thanks for coming with me tonight, though. She'll be nicer since there's a witness."

"Sure, I'm excited to meet your sister…another Cullen."

She turns and looks out the window. Studying the landscape, she suddenly seems lost in thought. Edward wonders what could have distracted her so completely.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"This drive reminds me of when we did that "Big Brother" thing for Jacob. His big brother, Davis, lived out this way. They got together a couple times a month for several years."

"You mentioned a while back that his dad hasn't been involved in his life. Do you mind me asking why? Did he move far away or something?"

Bella gets quiet.

"Isabella?"

"The truth is that he doesn't even know about Jacob."

"What?" Edward can't contain his surprise and her expression falls. He can tell she's embarrassed. He has to force himself to focus back on the road.

"It's a long story. He was my boyfriend at design school. We were in the same photography class and he was here for a year from Italy."

"So he's Italian?"

"Yes, his name is Leo, short for Leonardo. God, he was gorgeous…and so talented. I was madly in love with him."

Edward's chest tightens irrationally at the idea of his Isabella having such powerful feelings about another man.

"So what happened?"

"When we started to fall in love we both knew he was only there for a year. He had an Italian attitude… _let's have fun while we can_. He was very clear about things, everything was understood so I can't say I didn't know what I was getting into."

"How much do we ever really know when we start to fall in love?"

"So true, and like I could have controlled that passion anyway."

He doesn't imagine Isabella being one to ever control her passion.

"When he talked about the future he would excitedly go on about traveling around the world to shoot. He didn't want to get tied down with anyone or anything that would keep him from his dreams. And as the oldest coming from a large family, he grew up knowing he had no desire to have kids. He knew exactly what he wanted and was always very honest. I admired that about him."

Edward feels shame at her words, knowing he didn't offer those qualities to Isabella when they met. They may have gotten past his deception, but it still haunts him.

"So was completely surrendering to your passion worth it?"

"Yes! Oh, God, the way he loved me. He made me feel like I was the only woman on earth. You remember what it was like to be young and in love. We would make wild love, sleep, wake up and make morning love, then get up and go to class, shoot together, then come home and make love again."

"Yes," Edward says under his breath, imagining all too vividly beautiful Isabella as a young, insatiable woman.

"The night before he left he came to my room in the middle of the night. We cried while we made love the last time. Then right before he had to leave, he suddenly begged me to come with him and live in Italy."

"Were you surprised?"

"I was shocked and was already a wreck…it just confused me. I wanted to follow him, but I was so passionate about my work in school, and I knew he would never settle down. I'd have to give up so much. So I had to let him go. We were both desperate saying goodbye. And then later I found out I was pregnant. I had been so stressed with school and his departure that my cycle was off. I didn't even realize until I was almost three months along that I was pregnant."

"Why didn't you contact him then and tell him?"

"I knew he would feel trapped since he had such an aversion to babies and children. And even if he decided to be involved, he didn't want to live here, and I didn't want to live there isolated with a new baby. I knew I would need my mom's help."

"But you didn't even give him a chance to figure it out with you," he insists.

"I know," she says, the guilt heavy in her voice.

"So to this day he doesn't know about his son?"

"No, and I can't tell you how much I've agonized over that decision over the years. But I'm at the point in my life where I refuse to live with regrets. I've made up my mind to finally tell him. I know I'm strong enough now."

"Do you know how to find him?"

"I've tracked him down as far as knowing he lives in Lucca, a town in Tuscany. I've been saving my money and I'm going to go this fall and face him."

"By yourself?"

"Sure. And who knows…I may never come back."

His heart seizes and he can't hide the panic from seeping into his expression.

"Don't say that, even if you're just joking. Just don't," he says firmly.

"I'm sorry," she says sheepishly. "I didn't really mean it."

She looks over at him and notices that his knuckles are white from grabbing the steering wheel so tightly. She clears her throat and tries to explain.

"I just want him to know what an amazing young man Jacob is. He deserves to know. And you know what? At this point in his life he may be pleased to have a son."

"A child created from the love you had for each other. How could he not welcome him into his life?"

She smiles warmly at him as she imagines what it would have been like to have a child with Edward. She decides to ask him another time why he and Lauren never had kids.

"You're doing the right thing by letting him know. Give him a chance."

"Thank you for understanding."

.

Minutes later they pull up to Rose and Emmett's house which is built right on the strand in Manhattan Beach. Despite its size, it's part of the complicated jigsaw puzzle of high-end homes fighting each other for spectacular ocean views.

A small boy wearing an oversized football helmet answers the door.

"Uncle Edward!" he yells out, tackling Edward's legs.

"Caleb!" Edward yells back, bending down and pulling him into a hug.

The little guy pushes his helmet back and looks up at Bella. "Is this the new Aunt Lauren?"

Edward lets out something between a cough and a choke, then pushes him back enough to gesture to Bella. "No Caleb, this is _my friend_, Ms. Isabella."

Caleb grins at her and she smiles back.

"Caleb, I told you not to answer the door by yourself!" Rose reprimands, as she approaches them with her hands on her hips.

Her face lights up at the sight of Edward. "Big brother has arrived!"

He laughs and hugs her. When they pull apart she turns toward Bella. "And you must be Bella." She gives Bella a warm hug, too. "Come in…come in."

The house is bright and contemporary but with a relaxed beach feel. There's evidence of kids everywhere and it makes Bella smile. She hands Rose the apple pie she baked for their meal. "I love your home. How wonderful to be right at the edge of the beach."

"Wonderful, yes," Rose agrees as the head towards the kitchen, "But harrowing at times, too. All kinds of creatures have been known to stroll past our view."

"Don't ask," Edward warns Bella as he sets down his guitar and bottle of wine they picked out together.

"You brought your guitar," Rose notices, grinning happily. "Eric will be so thrilled."

"I figured we could play something together. Where's my buddy anyway?"

"He and Sarah are in the hot tub. Emmett's out there with them, go say hello."

Edward takes Isabella by the elbow and leads her through the living room out to the deck.

Emmett sets his beer bottle down and jumps up when he sees them. "Kids, look who's here!"

A freckle-faced girl sporting green goggles pops her head up from the hot tub and a boy grins widely and waves as Edward and Bella approach.

"Hey guys," Edward says happily after greeting Emmett. "This is Isabella." He points towards the little girl. "Isabella, the sea monster in the goggles is Sarah and this is Eric, the musician."

"Hi there," Bella says, waving.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Sarah asks Bella without missing a beat. Her eyes look even wider from the goggles.

"Why yes, I am," Bella replies.

"Do you want to see my Pokemon trading card collection?"

"I'd love to," Bella replies.

"Really?" Sarah asks, surprised.

"Sure. You know my son Jacob collected Pokemon cards. He even had a Shadowless Charizard," Bella states, with just the right infusion of drama.

"Whoa!" Sarah and Eric say in unison.

Emmett nods towards Bella and gives Edward a look. "We have a win."

.

Dinner is casual out on the deck. Edward and Emmett battle it out for barbecue rights while Bella helps Rose pull things together. The kids wear their swimsuits while they eat and they chat non-stop with Edward and Bella, updating them on all their latest adventures. All three of the kids play soccer, although Emmett insists that Caleb's tots group is more like a bunch of puppies running over each other trying to figure out where their ball is.

"My five-year-old keeps insisting that he wants to play football." Rose rolls her eyes, noticing that the helmet is back on Caleb now that he's done eating.

"Wonder where he got that idea?" Edward asks, nudging Emmett.

"Yeah, well…I may have handed him the ball, but he's taken it and run with it."

It's obvious Emmett is extremely pleased. He's a football fanatic, and there's every indication that Caleb is following in daddy's footsteps.

"And I get to take surf lessons this summer, Uncle Edward," Eric announces.

"Really?" Edward asks, impressed. "That is so cool, little dude. Will you show me how after you learn?"

"Sure!"

Bella loves watching Edward with his family. There's clearly so much love between all of them. She can't imagine how sad he must have been to stay away so long.

As they clear the table, Emmett offers to give Caleb his bath, and make sure the other kids take their showers while Rose and Bella take care of clean up. Edward goes with his brother to help manage the mayhem.

In the kitchen, Rose pulls open the dishwasher and then looks over at Bella.

"So how long have you and Edward been…?"

"Friends," Bella answers. "Not long. We met in April."

"Only April?" Rose asks. "You guys seem so comfortable with each other, like you've known each other for years."

"It feels that way. I'm so lucky to have made such an wonderful friend."

"Yes, well," Rose says carefully, as if she's thinking about what she wants to say. "I've never seen Edward quite like this, so relaxed and happy. What's funny is, now that I think about it, I've never known him to have a good female friend either."

"Never?" Bella asks, surprised. "Maybe that's just what he's needed."

"Must be," she agrees. "He tended to be a loner before he got married. He was always such a serious guy. Very intense."

"Really? We laugh all the time."

Rose sets the dishes down and rests her hands on the counter before turning toward Bella. "Well, whatever you've been doing, it's worked wonders and I'm so grateful. Will you please just keep doing it?"

"I'll do my best."

She smiles at Bella warmly and Bella can't imagine why Edward was worried his sister would be unpleasant…she couldn't be more welcoming.

.

Upstairs, Emmett keeps dousing Caleb with water in between scrubs. Caleb is too busy playing with his Iron Man submarine to be bothered about it.

Emmett turns back toward Edward. "So I got a call from Lauren's lawyer. They want to meet on Tuesday. Are you ready for that?"

Edward looks down, trying to imagine the scenario…finally seeing his wife after all these months and it will be in a lawyer's conference room. The idea of it makes him sick.

He sighs and shakes his head. "She must be really anxious to get this done."

"Perhaps," Emmett agrees. "We _have_ been sitting on it for a while."

Edward nods as Emmett watches the various expressions move across his face. He finally settles down.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Edward confirms.

"Does Bella know we're talking about this?"

"Yes, I told her. But she isn't pushing me with the divorce if that's what you're worried about. If anything it's the opposite. She told me that if I still wanted Lauren, it's not to late for fight for her."

"Is that so?" Emmett responds, surprised.

"That's the thing about Bella, Emmett. She just wants me to be happy."

"Wow," replies Emmett, shaking his head. "She's amazing. I like her, Edward."

Edward looks at him, surprised. He wasn't sure Emmett would take to Bella right away.

"Really," Emmett confirms.

Edward nods and smiles. "I really like her, too."

.

With everything and everyone cleaned up, Edward sits down with Eric to hear what he's learned so far on the guitar. As he plays, Edward gives him pointers and teaches him some new chords. Finally, he teaches him a simple song that they can perform for the family as a duet.

When they go to gather everyone, they find Bella in Sarah's room getting the deluxe presentation of the Pokemon card collection. Caleb is curled up in Bella's lap while Sarah explains the strengths and values of each character card. Bella is acting like it's the most interesting thing she's ever heard. Rose is in the doorway looking on and she makes room for Edward to stand next to her and observe.

"I think your silver soul MewTwo is my very favorite of your collection," Bella says with authority, when the presentation is done.

"Really? Me too!" Sarah exclaims. From the look on her face, Bella is Sarah's new idol.

"Pikachu's the bestest!" Caleb insists.

Sarah rolls her eyes and gives Bella a knowing look. "He's such a baby."

.

Rose claps her hands. "Okay troops, Edward and Bella are going to be leaving soon, but before they go, Eric and Edward have a performance for us. We all need to head down to the family room."

Everyone piles together on the sectional couch and Eric and Edward sit in the facing chairs, lift up their guitars, and get into position. Edward waits until Eric looks ready, and then with a quiet countdown they begin Mozart's _Greensleeves._

Eric stumbles a bit in the beginning and makes a few errors, but Edward gives him reassuring looks and prompts him to continue. Before you know it, they've found their synchronicity and they mesh easily together. Bella's surprised to be so moved by their playing, but she understands that the joining of their simple chords has complex ramifications for everyone in the room.

She looks over to see tears streaming down Rose's face. Rose notices that she has Bella's attention and their eyes meet. She gently presses her hand over her heart as she gazes back at her son and her brother, and this small gesture tells her everything. So much that was lost now seems found again.

.

Later in the car, Bella offers to drive because Edward seems overwhelmed from the time with his family. They're quiet at first until Bella gets an idea.

"Hey, would you mind if we stop at Hermosa Beach before we head home?"

"Sure, what's in Hermosa Beach?"

"You'll see," she replies as she turns the car around.

Driving a couple of miles south, she finally makes a sharp right onto a small side street. She parks next to a little mom and pop grocery store and jumps out.

"See, it's The Green Store!" Grinning, she points to the establishment evidently named for it's bright mint color. "This is where we'd always buy our munchies."

He smiles at her and watches as she crosses the wide walking path, slips off her shoes, and then runs out onto the sand, now a bumpy gray landscape in the moonlight. He walks slowly behind her, watching her every move.

She stops for a moment in the children's play area and scoots onto a swing. She pushes off and as she gains momentum she grazes her toes across the sand, sending the grains flying like midnight pixie dust. When the swing's at it's highest point, she flings herself off and flies through the air with a shriek. There's a dull thud when she hits the sand, landing cleanly on both feet.

As soon as she lands she takes off running toward the shore, slowly fading into the darkness.

"Where you going?" Edward calls out to her as he picks up speed to catch up.

_His crazy Isabella, all spark and fire._ Even the chilled evening sand and bracing grip of the ocean can't cool her down. He wonders haphazardly if asteroids collided the night she was born.

She turns back and laughs, waving him forward.

When he finally reaches her, she is ankle deep in the tide, her skirt hiked up high on her thighs.

"Come on, Edward! Take your shoes off and join me. It's wonderful!"

Despite his inclination to stay dry, he pulls off his shoes and rolls up his jeans before tentatively stepping into the surf to join her.

She takes his hand and they stand quietly for a minute, feeling the water and sea breeze move over them.

"Isabella? What is it about this place, this particular spot in sleepy Hermosa Beach, that's meaningful to you?"

"This was our place, Mom, Jacob, and me. It was always ours. We always found a parking space in front of The Green Store, and they always had that old-fashioned cream soda that Momma loved. This was Jacob's favorite playset, and the surf here was always just right for swimming."

"Your place, " he repeats.

"And one day when I'm done with my journey, I will come here, yes, I will, and I will walk into the ocean and swim towards the horizon, never to return."

"What will become of you? Will you transform into a mermaid?" he asks with just the softest teasing tone.

"Fish food." she answers simply. "I will become one with the ocean."

As unnerving as that image is to Edward, he can't deny that disappearing into the ocean seems like a befitting ending to the mythical, magical Isabella.

The tide pulls back and forth around their legs. She sighs deeply as she turns toward the vastness of the ocean, now barely visible in the dark sky. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the moon.

"Thank you for sharing your family with me tonight, Edward, and for coming here with me. I'm so completely happy right now," she says softly.

He looks at her serene expression and the way her lips are gently pursed together. Little wisps of hair dance around her face as the moon bathes her in its silver light.

He's overwhelmed and almost falls back with the impact of his truth and how obvious it suddenly is.

He's falling in love with Isabella, this impulsive creature, this female anomaly, this force of life so much greater than his own.

He thinks of his family…Rose, Emmett, and the kids, and how everyone was more alive, happier around her, Jasper and Alice, too…but no one more than he. She's his Dorothy, oiling up his frozen tin man joints, and then easing him down the yellow brick road in search of his heart. Did she know that she held his heart all along?

He's breathless and in his excitement, he pulls her into his arms.

"What?" She laughs softly at his big gesture.

"I've just had the greatest idea!"

_See, Isabella, I can be dramatic, too._

Her eyes get wide and she looks up at him eagerly.

"Let me take you to Italy. Let's just get on a plane and go. Why wait until fall? Let's just do it now!"

"What?" she asks, stunned. "You want to go?"

"Yes, I do. I want to help you. Don't worry about not having saved the money up yet-it'll be my treat. Besides, I can be your support, like you've been for me."

"Oh my God, do you really mean it?"

He nods enthusiastically and with each second passing, he knows he's never meant anything more.

"But still, I can't let you pay my way, Edward. You aren't even working now."

"You don't need worry about that. Let's just say that Carlisle provided extremely well for his kids. I know you have shoots scheduled, how soon do you think you can get away?"

"Well, what about you? Didn't you say that you've started up with the divorce stuff?"

"Yeah, we have our first meeting Tuesday, but the rest I can schedule around our plans. Why don't you start figuring out a good time for you, and I'll book the tickets."

She throws her arms around him. "Oh, Edward!"

He holds her tight and lets the wonder settle over him. He's drunk with it, possessed, and it lights up every nerve ending, echoes in every heartbeat…

Joy.

.

.

* * *

_Things will be picking up speed now. Are you ready?_

_Thanks so much for reading_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!_


	9. Chapter 9 Just a Glimmer

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy...such great women. I'm so grateful to have their help_.  
_

_It's a given that we love Edward in our fanfics, but it thrills me that so many of you love this Bella. I really appreciate your reviews and feedback. I learn and find inspiration from the thoughts you share with me. ~Thank you  
_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Nine / Just a Glimmer **

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"Look at this one, Angela, it has _a hillside view of the rolling hills of Tuscany."_ Bella sighs. "And listen to the name, _Al Casino Dei Papi_…so Italian!"

She laughs. "Yes, that makes sense since it's in Italy."

"Can you imagine having a glass of wine on this patio?"

Angela smiles at Bella's enthusiasm. "That would be lovely."

Bella points to a picture of one of the bedrooms. "Look at this canopy bed…mama mia!"

"Italians don't really say _mama mia, _Bella. I've heard that's more of a stereotype. You need to get one of those Rosetta Stone programs to learn how to speak the language."

"We're leaving within weeks so there's no time for that!" She waves her hand in the air. "But I've always been told I'd fit in beautifully in Italy due to my passionate nature." She grins.

"I don't doubt it," Angela agrees.

Bella opens up another window on her laptop. "Oh, but look at the pool and garden with this one, _Villa Eugenia_. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

"So, remind me again of the specifics why we're having Italian for dinner and you're looking at Italian villas?" Angela asks patiently.

"Because Edward and I are going to Italy as soon as we decide on a place."

"So let me get this straight, your _friend_ Edward," she does dramatic quote marks in the air with her fingers on the word '_friend_,' "is taking you to Italy to reveal to your passionate ex-lover, baby-daddy that he has a grown son he's never met? This sounds like a made-for-TV movie." She grins and shakes her head.

"I know, it's kind of wild, isn't it?"

"I'll say. And your '_friend'_ is paying for the trip? I wish I had friends like that."

"Well, we've yet to sort all that out, but he wants to."

"And in this villa you're going to rent, will you have separate rooms?"

Bella raises her eyebrows at Angela. "Is this your way of asking if we sleep together?"

"Maybe." Angela is sporting a devilish smile.

Bella sighs. "We'll have separate rooms."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Honestly, Bella, that is one fine looking man."

"Don't remind me."

"What's the impediment? I got the feeling that he's quite taken with you when you came into my office together for his follow-up."

"I suppose. But I think he's hoping to work things out with his wife, who he's separated from."

Angela's expression falls. "Oh, no. Then why are you even in the picture? That just confuses things for both of you."

"Because the idea of no longer being friends with him is too painful to me. I know, I know…I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Probably," Angela answers pragmatically. "Have you slept together?"

"No." She blushes. She can't hide anything from Angela.

"But you want to."

"Oh, Angela. It's getting to the point where it's all I think about. My day and night dreaming is one never-ending erotic film starring Mr. Edward Cullen."

"So the hormones are all charged up on full cylinders." She rests her hand on Bella's shoulder. "I just don't want you to get hurt, my friend."

"I know. I keep hoping it's a phase and that I'll just get over it, but it's only getting worse."

"Be careful, Bella, please."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Angela knows the irony. Her friendship with Bella has spanned many years, starting with their two children becoming friends in preschool. Angela's been her confidant, her doctor, and her support through Bella's mother's long illness. She's seen her in the best and worst of times and there's one thing she knows for sure: Bella's a lot of things, but careful isn't one of them.

.

..~*~..

.

That night in bed, Bella sorts through the array of Edward fantasies that she's created in her mind. These mini-films starring the two of them both arouse and satisfy. Sometimes she wonders if they dangerously fuel her obsession with the man, but she enjoys them so much that she succumbs to her urges. Tonight she's leaning towards a dramatic fantasy…something epically romance novel-ish.

Perhaps it will be the King Edward one, where he storms in on his horse and rescues her from her captor. She especially likes that one, because once he gets her back to their castle, he ravages her on the royal bed. Or perhaps tonight it will be the shipwrecked on the tropical island one where they make wild, desperate love on the beach.

Or maybe tonight, she just wants to think about her real life Edward…the man who held her tightly in his arms and told her he was taking her to Italy. In these private moments, she allows herself to think that each touch and look he gives her means something more…tiny encrypted codes that, when put finally together, will open up the lock protecting his heart. As she pictures his strong shoulders and the way he fills his jeans, she slowly slides her hand under her chemise and across her hip. She imagines it's_ his_ hand touching her, _his_ breath catching in the still night air.

As her fingers edge between her legs, she pictures the look of primal need he gives her when he thinks she isn't paying attention. The thrill she gets from his hungry gaze makes her think he could be in his bed now with the sheets pushed down. Maybe he's imagining that it's her hand stroking him firmly…her naked breast in his warm hand.

Her blood heats as if she can feel his lips on hers, his weight settling over her. She pulls her legs apart for her phantom Edward, as his words of unrestrained desire fall over her. She arcs her back, letting her fingers become his, as she lets him take every part of her, again and again.

.

..~*~..

.

Late Tuesday afternoon, he finds her in her photo studio, a large room with bright white walls and high ceilings.

"Hey," Bella says, grinning as he enters. "I wasn't expecting a visit. It's great to see you."

He watches her wind up a long cord and then put the lens cap on her camera before he walks over to give her a hug.

He notices all the equipment that's set up. "Are you getting ready for a shoot?"

"No, actually, I finished one earlier. I'm just shutting down."

"How'd it go?"

"Great. We had fun." She searches through some stuff on a rolling cart next to her camera. She pulls out a small picture. "Here…do you want to see one of the Polaroids?"

He walks over and she hands him the glossy rectangle. He holds it up to study the black and white image of a beautiful young couple. They look completely enchanted with each other.

"Very nice. So you shoot Polaroid? I didn't even think that they made this stuff anymore. I thought you shot film?"

"I'm old school, remember? Besides, the Polaroids are just to test the light and exposure. The rest of what I shot was on film."

"Do you develop the film yourself?"

"No, I don't trust myself with that. I do the prints because you can redo them if you mess up…you only have one chance with film negatives. I use a professional lab for that."

"Such technical stuff," he marvels.

She pushes him playfully. "I bet you're surprised. You probably didn't think I could be so techy."

"You always surprise me, Isabella. It sure keeps things interesting." He walks around the studio studying things while she continues to finish up.

She notices he looks a little nervous and she remembers that he was supposed to have the meeting with the lawyers today.

"Hey, everything alright?" she asks, pulling him out of his deep thoughts.

"Yeah, I was wondering if we could talk? I mean, if you have the time."

"Sure, I'm pretty much done in here anyway. Let's go outside." She grabs a couple of bottles of water from the studio fridge before they settle in the patio.

He leans forward on his elbows and twists the bottle cap back and forth anxiously. "We had the first meeting with the divorce lawyers today."

"That must have been difficult," she says.

"Well, the shit is real now. Division of assets, blah, blah, blah. Thank God we don't have kids. Her lawyer would want to divide them, too."

"Yucko," Bella responds.

He laughs. "Yeah, I couldn't have said it better myself. A big, mother-fucking fat yucko. Lauren even looked a little stunned."

"How was it, seeing her again?"

He rocks in his seat for a moment. "How do I explain it? It was awful and awkward, but also kind of good. I've missed her, you know?"

"I can imagine." Bella's heart thumps a little slower.

"She looked good. She's been taking care of herself. Too bad I can't say the same."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're taking care of yourself now."

He looks up at her and their eyes hold on each other for several beats. "Thanks to you."

"Not just me, Edward," she insists.

"Anyway, Jeffrey must be taking very good care of her." He pulls the cap off the bottle and finally takes a swig of water.

Bella decides to avoid speculating when that won't do Edward any good. It's doubtful they'll ever know the real truth about what Jeffrey is to Lauren. It doesn't matter anyway.

"So how were things left?"

"Well, that's the weird part. The lawyers went over some legal crap that they were going to regroup about. I had pretty much tuned out at that point. I just let Emmett's partner do his thing. The guy's sharp. But when we had all parted and I was about to get into my car, I turned around and there she was."

"Lauren?"

He pulls his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. It was weird. She was different…softer than in the meeting, and she asked me if we could have dinner. I asked why, and she said that there were some things she never got to explain and she really wanted the chance."

She studies him carefully and can't tell if this encounter made him hopeful or wary. In the moment, he's hard to read.

"Wow. How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. She wants to have dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, not coffee…not another conversation around the lawyers. I'm not sure what to think."

The fact that he's falling in love with Isabella only confuses him more.

Bella grips her water bottle a little tighter. She knows what she should say, but a part of her doesn't want to. Part of her wants to say something disparaging about Lauren and tell Edward not to trust her. But she reaches inside and says what really should be said. "You know if you really want her back, it sounds like this would be a good time to tell her that." She looks down and takes a deep breath to steady herself. "The opportunity might be presenting itself, Edward. Maybe she just needed some time."

He stands up, walks to the edge of the patio, and focuses on the distance. "I don't know, Bella. I just don't know."

.

They decide to have an early dinner at the Aroma Café. They sit in the back patio and talk about everything but Lauren. When Edward drives Bella home, he pulls into her driveway and parks to walk her to the door.

"I'm going to head home if that's all right with you."

"Sure," she says, even though nothing about it feels right.

"Before I do though, there's one other thing. The dinner with Lauren is this Thursday, so that means I won't be able to come play for you that night."

Bella turns away so he can't see her disappointment and she fumbles with the key to open her door. "That's okay. I understand," she says quietly.

He wraps his fingers around her arm and gently pulls her around to face him. "Are you sure it's okay?" He can tell it isn't, but he doesn't want to undo what's been planned. He wants to get it over with. "Can we do it Friday instead?"

_But Thursday is our day_, she thinks to herself childishly. _Thursday,_ _not Friday. Lauren could have had him any other night, but she picked mine._

He waits for her response and worries she's going to turn him down…that somehow this has thrown their balance off. Could it be that Lauren's needs suddenly stacked onto their scale and tipped it over? He'd hoped that things weren't that delicate between them.

"Sure," she finally replies, giving him an unconvincing smile. "Friday's fine."

..~*~..

That night, Bella works on journal entries as she listens to loud, aggressive opera and drinks wine. She creates three pages, working quickly, using her instincts and heart instead of her brain. As always in her journaling, she's trying to quiet her thoughts and let the art come from somewhere unknown, a part of her energy buried deep inside.

The first two pages are abstract collages of words and images. She's too close to them to even begin to analyze what they mean. She may never need to. She resolves to just let them be.

The third though takes shape, and when she feels like it's done, she studies it. The most prominent elements are a hand in the foreground and a bird in flight that is in the upper half of the page. The colors are muted, like a sepia toned print that has been hand colored.

The only thing she can't decide is if the hand is trying to catch the bird or has just lifted it towards the open sky to set it free.

.

..~*~..

.

"It feels weird not being there to play for you," Edward says after greeting Isabella over the phone. "I mean, I know I'm coming tomorrow…"

"See, and I've decided that's cool. We're shaking it up. Maybe we were getting too routine."

"I suppose so," he says.

"So tomorrow, why don't you play something unexpected."

"I always play some unexpected stuff," he says, sounding defensive.

"I mean extra-extra unexpected," she teases. "So, are you nervous about seeing Lauren?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to profess your undying love and beg her to come back?"

He gets quiet.

"Bella, are you okay? Why are you being this way?"

"What are you talking about? I'm fine…except, oh hell! I forgot to buy lemons!"

"Lemons?"

"Yes, for the chicken piccata."

He hears the clack of her sandals on the tile floor. She must be moving through the house while they're talking. _Why is she so distracted?_

"Oh look, there's still some lemons on the tree. I'm saved!"

"You're cooking chicken piccata tonight?" _I love chicken piccata,_ he thinks_._

"Yes, you aren't the only one with a hot date. I'm having a gorgeous young man for dinner and that's his favorite dish."

He's stunned. _A hot date?_ His stomach drops as the jealousy in him revs up like a race car on the starting line.

"You're cooking for him? You've never cooked dinner for me?" His mock indignant tone sounds a little too real.

"I know I'm forgetting something else," she mumbles absent-mindedly to herself.

_Does she even care that I'm still on the phone with her_? "Isabella?"

"Oh damn, I know…I forgot to wash the sheets. I've gotta go, Edward. Listen, have a great time with Lauren. And if things go even better than you hope, then don't worry about tomorrow night; just leave me a message that you can't make it."

_Wash the fucking sheets_? "But, Isabella…"

"Gotta go! Later!"

She hangs up and curls over, trying to catch her breath. She's gutted as the reality slaps her hard in the face. _Edward's going to be with Lauren tonight. _She honestly didn't think this would be so hard.

.

Edward grips the disconnected phone in his hand long after she's gone.

.

..~*~..

.

He drinks iced tea as he waits at their table. There's no booze yet since he's determined to keep his wits about him as long as possible. Even though he's expecting her, he's shocked when he sees Lauren glide into the restaurant and smile when the hostess points out where he's sitting. The entire walk to their table she never takes her eyes off him.

It's incredibly awkward as she smoothes her napkin over her lap and he pushes his unopened menu around nervously.

"I haven't been here in a long time. Not since…" He stops himself. "Anyway, I hardly recognize anyone."

She looks around and nods. "They must be having turnover issues." She focuses back on him. "So, how are you?"

He pauses, resisting the pat social reply. "It's been a rough time, but I think I've turned the corner."

"Yes, I assumed so when my lawyer said you finally were ready to move forward. What changed?"

"Some of it was just time passing. But also, I have a new friend who's helped a lot."

"Really? How'd you meet him?"

"It's actually a woman. Her name's Isabella."

It's almost imperceptible how her lips tighten, but he knows all the subtle nuances of moods from his soon-to-be-ex-wife. Her eyes dart down and she opens up her menu. "Why don't we order and then you'll have to tell me about her."

A moment later a chatty waiter approaches their table and they get absorbed in his elaborate presentations of the night's specials. He pushes them to make the all-important decision whether to pre-order their famed lava cake dessert or not, since it takes an hour to make. Edward is dubious. Who knows if this dinner, an attempt at being civilized, will last long enough for dessert?

Although she initiated this meeting, Lauren doesn't begin to relax and open up until she is two thirds done with her dry martini. Edward slowly nurses a scotch on the rocks and waits to hear what she's come to say.

"The thing is, it's taken a while for me to figure out what happened between us."

"You've figured it out?" He smiles. "Why don't you enlighten me, then?" He cringes inwardly when he realizes his words sounded harsher than he intended.

She chooses to ignore his barely veiled sarcasm.

"For me, it all started when Esme died. I don't know if you understood how much she meant to me, how she made me feel like a daughter, when your dad and Rose always kept me at arm's length."

"That's not true," he argues. "They loved you, too."

"It was never the same with them; you guys were such a tight insular family. It was hard for an outsider to penetrate your bubble. Emmett and I even talked about it a few times."

Edward is surprised to hear that about Emmett. He would have never guessed he felt that way.

"So I was devastated when Esme died so quickly, but there was no room for my grief. Carlisle's mourning and his illness were all that mattered."

"Does that really surprise you? He was her husband after all, and she was the love of his life."

She sighs deeply. "I understand that, but from then on, your total focus was Carlisle and trying to keep him alive. It broke my heart to watch. You gave up everything to help him, and all he really wanted was to die. I think he was certain he would join Esme in the afterlife or something."

Edward rubs his hands over his face before leaning back in his chair. "I hope he was right. I hope they're together now."

"I hope so, too." Lauren looks up and motions for the waiter to get her another martini. She turns to Edward, "Do you want another?"

"No thanks," he replies as he rolls the ice cubes around in his glass. "You know what I've wondered a million times? What if all of that hadn't happened…my parents' death and my resulting depression? Do you think we'd still be together?"

"I do," she says, but her voice isn't completely convincing.

"Was it a good marriage? The reason I ask is that I always thought it was, but now I'm not so sure."

"Why do you say that?"

"I think we grew apart."

"I think that's a cop out," she insists. "We stopped working on it. Relationships take work."

_She makes it sound like a job…like I'm one of her clients._

"It was also hard for me feeling like you lost interest in me sexually." She folds her arms defensively, but he can tell she's wounded.

He shakes his head. "That's not true. At the end you always seemed tired, ambivalent even."

Edward starts to feel warm, and not in a good way. It may be from the liquor, but this conversation is slowly scorching his insides.

"Maybe because I didn't think you found me attractive anymore."

Edward leans forward exasperated. "How can you say that? You've always been beautiful. I always wanted you, even if I seemed too distracted or depressed to make sure you understood that."

"Really?"

"Yes. It killed me that you got in another man's bed."

She carefully tucks her hair behind her ear as she looks down. "I wish I hadn't. Don't get me wrong, Jeffrey's been very good to me and a boost for my self-esteem. But you…well, you were always my kind of man."

He looks at her, understanding that they've just crossed some kind of line. It's maddening. Why are they having this conversation now? Why not when things first began to crumble?

He studies her as she makes room on her place-setting for the new martini. The waiter smiles at her appreciatively as he sets the drink down, and she smiles back. She's perfectly polished: her hair and make-up, her nails, her tailored jacket and slacks. She always has been, and carries herself with a confident air. It occurs to him that she's almost the exact opposite of Isabella in every way.

He also notices that her silk blouse is cut a little lower than she usually wore, and the faint scent of his favorite perfume fills his senses.

_Does she still want me to want her?_

He's not sure whether the answer would make him angry or surprised. They're in the middle of a divorce, for God's sake. Is this a game to her, or is she having second thoughts?

Under the table, he grips his knees hard as he turns toward her.

"What are we really doing here, Lauren? What do you want?"

"Want?" she asks, too demurely for his comfort.

"Yes, want. And not in the terms of 'Do you want the dining room table or the living room couch?' Me…what do you want from me?"

She lifts the toothpick out of her drink and pulls the olive off with her teeth before turning toward him.

"Do you really want to know?"

..~*~..

That night, Edward lies in bed with his eyes wide open. The idea of sleep is a joke, even though it would provide refuge from his confused mind. Everything about that dinner was a conundrum. He thought he would leave with answers, instead all he got was more questions.

Lauren was different in ways he can't yet put his finger on. He has to wonder if this poised, calculating woman is who she is now. Maybe he needed the time apart to really see the woman she's actually become, not just this fictional person in his head comprised of memories from their earlier happy times.

Or maybe it's him that's changed. Wondering if your marriage still fits isn't like seeing if the tux you wore on your wedding day can still button up comfortably. If they did decide to give things another go, would it make him happy?

He thinks about Isabella encouraging him to tell Lauren that he still wants her and has hope for their marriage. Can Bella really be that selfless? He had really started to believe that she carried a spark for him, even if it was just a glimmer. Perhaps he'd been wrong.

He flips again and punches his pillow into shape. He can't help but think about the mysterious man Bella invited for dinner and washed the linens for. If he'd been a completely free man, without being tangled in the web of his failed marriage, would he have been the man she'd cooked for? The man she'd press down onto her freshly laundered sheets?

.

..~*~..

.

The next morning as he stands in line at the bagel store, he starts to question his sanity. In theory Bella might not mind him just dropping in at nine a.m. with fresh bagels, but this isn't just any morning. What if she's still in bed with Mr. Chicken Piccata-Fresh Sheets? What if they're in the middle of a morning fuck when he rings her damn doorbell?

He almost convinces himself to abandon his poorly thought out plan when he gets to the front of the line, but he can't will his legs to move, and he pulls out his wallet to pay for the bag of bagels. Why did he buy so many? What's he thinking?

His eye twitches the entire drive to her house. When he parks, he's unsettled as if he's suddenly a stranger to this place that's always felt so welcoming to him. As he gets out of his car, he realizes he wants that feeling back…however he can get it.

He rings the bell and taps his foot nervously as he waits. There's no answer so he tries again. Finally, he hears what sounds like the shuffle of footsteps. The door pulls slowly open.

Standing before him is a man who clearly has just woken. He looks at Edward warily as he runs his fingers through his messy hair. He has no shirt on, just his jeans barely holding onto his narrow hips.

"Yeah?" he groans, squinting into the light.

Edward almost has to look away. The guy can't even be thirty—his chest and shoulders are irritatingly defined and his face looks young despite the stubble from not shaving. His skin is a dark olive and his eyes widen when he sees the bag of bagels. Edward guesses all that sex made him hungry.

Edward leans to the side and looks over his shoulder to see if he can spot Isabella. Perhaps she's stretched out in a negligee waiting for this man to come back to bed.

Mr. Piccata glances over his shoulder to figure out what Edward's looking for, and turns back and smirks.

_What the fuck? Could this be any more humiliating? _

_Am I going to surrender my dignity? What else do I have to lose?_

Edward clears his throat and looks Piccata in the eyes.

"I'm here for Isabella."

.

.

* * *

_Hmmm, who could the mystery man be? I love hearing from you..._

_Thanks for reading  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!_


	10. Chapter 10 The Good Son

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_**  
**

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter 10 / The Good Son**

.

"Isabella?" The young man smiles lazily. "Huh…I haven't heard her called that in years."

_What the hell do you mean-years? _

Edward teeters on an anxious edge. He's about to lose his grip. He tries to focus on speaking calmly.

"Is she home?"

"Nope, she's not here. She told me she was doing some obstacle course thing with Leah this morning. What time is it anyway?"

Edward glances down at his watch. "Nine fifteen."

"I think she may be home soon. You want to come in and wait? Hey, are those bagels?"

Edward feels ridiculous as he holds up the bag, but he needs to keep his cool until he knows what's going on. "Yes, you want one?"

"Yeah, sure." He opens the door wider. "I better eat quick, though. I have to leave soon; the conference I'm here for is all the way in Pasadena. I can't be late."

Edward follows him to the kitchen wishing he'd put a damn shirt on. He's tired of looking at him and imagining Bella in his arms.

"Coffee?" The man asks while he pours himself a mug.

Edward nods, then realizes that the guy is studying him like he's sizing him up.

"You're Edward, right?"

_He knows who I am?_

"Yes."

"I thought so. Mom told me all about you. She should've mentioned you were coming over. I would've gotten my shit together, put on a shirt or something."

_Mom?_

All the pieces finally fall together in his mind. This must be Jacob. Edward takes what feels like his first breath since he got there.

He quickly gets his bearings and shrugs casually, like he knew it all along. "She didn't know I was coming. I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"She's going to be disappointed she missed bagels with us, but she booked this thing with Leah and believe me, Leah would kick her ass if she canceled. Besides, my trip was completely last minute."

Jacob holds up the milk carton and when Edward nods, Jacob pushes it towards him.

"Well anyway, I'm glad to meet you," Edward says as he pours the milk until his coffee is caramel colored. "I haven't met Leah."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

Edward nods. "Noted, thanks. Hey, your mom says you're in graduate school. So what conference are you in town for?"

"One of the senior interns in my program was set to come to this research conference, but he got the flu. So at the last minute I got to take his place. I told them I'd save the program money 'cause I didn't need a hotel room. I'm really jazzed. I'm low man on the team and never get to do this stuff."

Edward watches Jacob smear cream cheese on his bagel and then take a huge bite. Now that he's gotten over the relief that he wasn't some random man, he marvels that he's Isabella's son. Other than the fact that he has his mom's eyes, they don't look or act alike at all.

"What's your particular area of interest, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Alzheimer's research, early onset specifically."

Edward remembers Isabella telling him that Jacob was inspired to do this program after what his grandmother went through.

"Is that what your grandmother had?"

Jacob nods, looking surprised by the question, like he expected Edward would know that already-something that had shaped this families life the way it did.

"I don't know a lot about Alzheimer's. How long was she sick?"

"Eight years. It turned our lives upside down; it just about killed my mom."

Edward feels a wave of nausea at realizing what Isabella went through. He had no idea of the scope of what she'd suffered.

"I can imagine. I went through the illness and death of my dad with Parkinson's…but I know that's much, much different than dealing with dementia."

"Well it's hard to think of Alzheimer's as anything but a tragedy…an ironic tragedy at that. After all, we spend a lifetime learning how to do things and making memories. Then this fucked up disease starts randomly messing up your brain making you unlearn everything and forget your memories. You eventually even forget the people you love the most. How cruel is that?"

Something about this young man really strikes Edward. He can see why Isabella's proud of him.

"Is that what happened with your grandmother?"

"Yeah, she had no idea who we were the last couple of years before she died."

"How horrible," Edwards says sadly.

He nods. "So I'm in the graduate program at Johns Hopkins. It's exciting because we just received a large grant from the Alzheimer's Association to do innovative drug and biomarker trials for people with genetically based early-onset Alzheimer's."

"That must be rewarding, to be involved in such important work. You're doing something that could really make a difference in peoples' lives."

"Well, it's very tedious and discouraging at times, but when I think of Grandma and these people I've met from the trials, I'm motivated. Eventually we're going to kick Alzheimer's ass."

Edward smiles warmly at him. Jacob sure has his mom's spunk. He's impressed with the kid. He was obviously raised right.

Jacob is just about to pour them more coffee when his phone prompt goes off. He holds it up to read the screen.

"It's a text from Mom. They're going out for a late breakfast. Do you want me to tell her you're here?"

"No. I'll call her later. I don't want to interrupt her time with Leah."

"Okay." Jacob's fingers fly over the keypad and when he's done he looks back at the phone. "Shit, it's late. I really better get ready to go."

"Okay, I'm going to head out. Keep the rest of the bagels."

Jacob pauses and Edward can tell he's considering something.

"Hey, would it be okay if we exchange numbers? That way if anything's up with mom, you have a way to reach me."

When they're done loading their numbers in their phones, Jacob turns to Edward. "I feel bad that I'm not around to look out for Mom, with her living alone and everything. I mean I know she's tough, but…"

Edward shakes his head. "No, I understand."

"Promise me you'll let me know if anything happens. Mom says you're a really good man. I'll feel so much better if I know you're looking out for her."

"I promise," Edward assures him.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella looks at the bag of bagels and wonders about the news she just learned during her phone call with Jacob. Edward showed up at nine-fifteen with bagels this morning? _What was that about? _He's not exactly an impulsive kind of guy.

She picks up her phone and calls him.

"So, I heard you met my Jacob. I didn't remember you were planning to come by."

Edward chuckles. "Yeah, that was my attempt at spontaneity. It would've been a bust except that I got to meet Jacob."

"Oh, I wish I could have been here to see you two together!"

She sounds disappointed. like she expected to witness a meeting of the minds or something.

"He's a great kid, Isabella."

She sighs happily. "He is, isn't he? I'm so proud of him."

"You should be. So I heard Leah worked you over."

"Yeah, next time if I tell you that she's taking me on an obstacle course, will you come much earlier bearing bagels and hold me hostage?"

He laughs. "Sure thing. Hey, do you still have any of those bagels?"

"Yes, didn't you bring a dozen or something? I'm not voracious by nature. Why?"

"Can I come have one? I forgot to eat lunch."

She laughs. "Sure, come make yourself at home. I'm going to be working in the garden, but you can keep me company while you eat this bag of bagels."

"Gardening?"

"I did some impulse shopping at the nursery on the way home, the colors called to me; everything's in bloom. The trick is that now these babies need to get into the ground."

"Why don't I help?"

"Are you good with a shovel?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's make some holes to fill." She snickers.

His mind goes there—he can't help himself.

_Isabella and her hole to fills…Isabella in his bed..._

"Hold on, woman, I'm on my way."

.

.

He heads straight into the backyard when he arrives and, sure enough, finds her on her hands and knees in one of the planting beds. She's wearing shorts and a tank top and a busted straw hat. She stands up when she sees him and he laughs, her knees are muddy and there's streaks of dirt all over her.

"Don't you look glamorous," he teases.

She smiles and shrugs. "It's a dirty job and you're going to look like this soon, so you better go in and make your bagel first."

"You want one?"

"Yeah, and can you bring out bottles of water, too?"

"Sure." He turns to head toward the house.

"Hey, thanks for coming Edward. Twice in one day. I'm a lucky girl!"

He smiles and gives her a thumbs up as he continues on, but inside he's thinking that he's actually the lucky one.

.

They've planted most of the California poppies when Bella steps closer to him to push the soil down around the freshly planted bursts of color. "So, I'm curious, what brought you over so early on a Friday morning?" She doesn't look up, just keeps working as she waits for his reply.

"Well, you'd made it sound like this random man was spending the night and I wanted to make sure everything was all right."

"Random man?" she asks, confused, as she looks up at him.

"Yeah, you said you were cooking for a young man, and that you needed to wash the sheets. You never mentioned that it was your son."

"Oh no!" She laughs. "Really? You really thought I was making the moves on some young guy? Is that what you think of me, Mr. C?"

"I didn't know what to think," he admits. "It was a little out there."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous," she says as she stands up to face him.

"Maybe I was," he admits.

She feels her emotions simmer at the idea of it. There's something so primal and arousing about a man's jealousy over his intended.

_But is she his intended? _

She takes him by the shoulders and gently jostles him back and forth playfully to lighten the moment. "You were jealous of me? So you don't want another man having his way with me …admit it!"

"His way with you?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

"Okay," she huffs. "_Making love. _You don't want another man making love to me."

The air between them suddenly gets thick with tension.

He steps closer to her and looks down as he shakes his head. His expression says everything, but he says the words anyway. "No, I don't."

Something in the way his eyes narrow and his jaw tenses makes her feel like he's holding back. What if what he really wants to be the one she's making love to?

"But… "

She takes a step back, scared of the hope that's flaring up inside of her. Everything is so tentative and fragile. Wanting him will surely lead to an internal meltdown if he works things out with his wife. She's not sure she can handle that kind of heartbreak; he means too much to her now.

"But what?" He looks like he's waiting for a declaration.

There's a long pause as he waits for her response, his gaze so intense that she finally has to look away.

"You saw Lauren last night. How'd it go?" She busies herself, crouching back down to free the next plant from its plastic container.

He places his foot on the edge of the shovel and pushes it into the soil. "I guess it was good in that we finally started to talk about what really happened. If only we had done that a year ago." He lifts the shovel of dirt and empties next to where he's digging.

"How'd she seem?"

"Cautious, but she was trying, I'll give her that."

"Well, that's good. Right?"

"I suppose. It was strange though, in funny ways."

"Like?"

"Well, she ordered a dry martini with olives on the side. She ordered it like it was always her choice of drink. Yet, the whole time I'd been with her, all those years I'd never once seen her order a martini."

"Yeah, that would feel a little weird."

"There were so many ways she felt different to me. I'm still not sure if she's changed a lot, or if at the end of our marriage, I hadn't noticed that she had evolved into a much different woman."

Bella looks somber. "Oh my, that's a lot to sort out. So what's next?"

"We agreed to think about everything we discussed and then talk again in a few days."

"That's a good idea." As she says the words the opposite feeling comes over her. If she were honest with herself she'd admit that she doesn't want that woman anywhere near Edward, but she fears the pull Lauren has on him is too strong to resist.

Edward nods at Bella's encouragement even though he's not sure how he feels about meeting Lauren again to rehash their old problems.

He's torn. He feels a responsibility to meet Lauren out of respect for the commitment he'd made when he married her, but he also remembers that the entire time he was in the restaurant he was wishing he was with Isabella instead.

.

.

"I think I'm done," she states, wiping her brow. They've been at it for two hours and the yard is strikingly more colorful.

"Aw come on, don't give up now, there's only one flat left."

"You aren't too hot and tired?"

"I am, but it feels good."

"Masochist," she mumbles under her breath, but grins widely.

She watches him move to the flat and position the young plants around the final planting area. She's mesmerized how his muscles look under his worn T-shirt and the force in his legs as he drives the shovel into the hardened earth.

She sits and watches him for a minute, enjoying the beautiful view of Edward. It finally gives her the courage to ask the question that has haunted her since she found out about the dinner.

"Hey, do you think Lauren wants you back? Maybe seeing you reminded her of what she's missing."

He looks back at her, surprised.

"Maybe."

She scowls_. Just as she suspected._

He moves closer to her. "Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't want you to get hurt again."

He reaches up and brushes some dirt off her cheek with his thumb, then looks her in the eye. "Is that it, or are you jealous, too?"

"Me, jealous? Of your wife? That would be rather stupid of me, wouldn't it?"

"She's not my wife anymore…not really. You know that. Don't forget she's living with another man now."

"It's kind of twisted, but has it occurred to you that by exploring this with you, it's like she's cheating on him?"

He shrugs. "I guess you could look at it that way."

She shakes her head firmly. "I don't like it."

'You're jealous."

She makes a face at him. He steps even closer.

"Jealous," he whispers.

"Stop being mean to me," she whispers back.

"But I like that you're jealous."

"I don't."

She steps away. "I'm going to take this stuff inside. I'll be back in a minute."

.

He watches her walk away. He wants to go after her, but he's afraid because he knows what he'll do. He can't play with Isabella like this. She deserves better.

When she comes back out a minute later she looks calmer, like she pulled herself together while she was inside.

"You okay?" he calls out.

"Yeah, except that I'm filthy!"

She goes over to the hose and turns it on, then starts running the water over her arms and legs to get the dirt off. It's such a simple, unassuming gesture, but the way she does it, gliding her fingers over her skin as the water bubbles over her is incredibly distracting.

_What's happening to him?_ His obsession with her is quickly taking over his mind and other parts of him, too.

She holds the hose out toward him. "Here, you want to clean up?"

He nods and walks over to where she's directing an arc of streaming water. He runs his arms through it.

"Oh man, that feels good," he moans. "I didn't think it'd be this hot today. I can't wait to take a shower."

She grins. "What's stopping you?" She shifts the hose so the stream is landing on the top of his head.

He just stands there at first as the water runs over his face and cascades down his shoulders. She can't read his expression, but she keeps the stream steady because there's something so right about a wet Edward.

Finally his eyes widen, almost imperceptibly under the waterfall. "Oh no, you did not."

She laughs. "Oh yes, I did!"

He lunges forward, but she had anticipated retaliation so she jumps back and directs the stream at his face, blinding him with water.

He growls and lunges again, wildly grasping for the hose. His strength is overpowering, and she isn't able to put up much of a fight. A moment later, she's shrieking as the stream of cold water is turned on her.

"No, no!" she yells, laughing as he soaks her. They wrestle for another moment before she finally gives up.

"That wasn't much of a fight, Isabella," he says as he happily waters her like a plant. His eyes wander down to her tank top that is now completely soaked. It reveals everything about the shape of her breasts including the fact that her nipples are hard.

"What?" she demands, looking down to see what he's seeing. "Your T-shirt is soaked too, you know!"

"Yeah, but what yours reveals is a lot more interesting to me."

"What? That I have breasts?" She pushes her hands down on her hips.

He grins. "That you have beautiful breasts." He shrugs. "Well, don't get defensive. That sheer bra doesn't leave much to the imagination."

She huffs and folds her arms over her chest. "You're embarrassing me. Would you like me to soak the front of your shorts and talk about the size of your penis?"

He smirks. "You can if you want. You won't be disappointed."

She throws her arms up in the air. "You!" She turns and marches up the walkway. She stops at one point and turns around. "I'm going to go change into dry, non-nipple exposing clothes."

"Don't do it on my account," he says. "I like that outfit very much."

Almost to the door she turns back. "Do you want me to see if Jacob has anything oversized in his closet you could wear? He's smaller than you, so I'm not sure."

"No, it's okay. I'm going to head home cause I really do want to shower."

"Really?" She looks disappointed.

"Yeah. But do you want to have dinner later? Why don't I come back at seven and pick you up. There's a new place on Larchmont I've been wanting to try."

She smiles. "Okay."

He's halfway home when it occurs to him that he better make a reservation at the restaurant now or they might not be able to get a table. He pulls over and reaches for his phone and realizes it's not in his pocket. He shakes his head as he remembers that he left his phone, wallet, and good watch on the table next to the pool. He doesn't want to wait to retrieve them in case Isabella needs to reach him, so he turns his car around.

When he gets to the house he rings the bell, but there's no answer. Realizing that she's probably still in the shower, he walks through the side yard to get to the back. The first thing he notices as he passes the pool area is that Isabella's clothes, including her bra and underwear, are in a soggy pile on the ground. Startled, he looks up and scans the yard but everything is still.

Then from the corner of his eye, he notices movement in the wter. He peers over the pool and realizes she's deep in the water, pushing through it with long, even strokes. Her hair fans around her like a gossamer spun silk.

When she finally breaks through the water's surface, she takes a big gulp of air. Her back is to him as she stands and rises out of the water like a glorious sea creature. He loves that she's naked and her wet skin glows under the warm light of the afternoon sun.

He's full of longing as he studies her shape and luminous beauty. He didn't think it was possible to want someone so much.

"Isabella," he calls out. He needs her to know he's watching her.

Startled, she turns around in the water, her wet hair covering her bare breasts.

"You're back," she says, her eyes wide with wonder. She slowly sinks back down into the water until it covers her shoulders like a cloak.

He points to the table nervously. "I forgot my phone and stuff."

She just watches him.

"What are _you_ doing?" he asks.

She smiles quietly. "Swimming."

"Yeah, I can see that—but you're naked."

"Uh huh, that's the best way to swim. You should try it sometime."

His reaction is so visceral, so instinctive, that he's not even sure it passes through his mind. He reaches up and starts to pull off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asks as he starts to unsnap his shorts.

"Going swimming…naked."

She turns away quickly right before he pushes his shorts off, missing a prime view of his arousal.

He dives in cleanly, cutting through the water with grace. She wonders if he was a swimmer when he was young. With his broad shoulders and long lean muscles, it wouldn't surprise her. He glides over closer to her.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asks.

"Swimming is great exercise," he points out, smiling.

"So is sex, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea between friends."

He swims a lazy circle around her as he watches her squirm.

"Who said anything about sex?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know. I guess it's on my mind."

He lowers himself into the water and pushes off, gliding to one of the end of the pool and back. His strokes are powerful, every movement showing off his handsome body in the most tantalizing way. She watches him, wondering what it would be like to have her legs wrapped tightly around him-how it would feel to be held in his arms skin to skin, heart to heart.

He surfaces even closer to her.

Bella keeps moving slowly under the water and doesn't try to hide. Every time he gazes down at her body she flushes with arousal. It surprises her how natural it feels to be naked before him.

After a particularly long look, his eyes finally trail back up to hers. "You know, Lauren asked all about you."

Bella's taken aback. "How in the world would she even know who I was?"

"Well, I told her that I was taking you to Italy to take care of something important, so naturally, she was curious."

"You told her about our trip?" Bella's surprised, but he takes her reaction as something else.

"Don't worry. I told her that we're good friends. Although she didn't look like she believed that."

"If I were her I'd probably be skeptical, too."

"She asked if I'd slept with you."

"What'd you say?"

"I told her no. I want to be honest about everything…with everyone."

He slowly circles around her again, and this time she follows him with her gaze, silently turning her body like they're connected. The water ripples form around her as if they're trying to contain her pounding heart.

He looks at her, starts to speak, and then stops. He looks down and slowly combs his fingers through the water. When he finally looks back up he has fire in his eyes.

"…but I told her that I wanted to."

.

.

* * *

_Mmmm, now let's imagine what's going to happen next..._

_Thanks for reading  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!_


	11. Chapter 11 Something Fierce

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena, Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_**  
**

_.  
_

* * *

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Eleven / Something Fierce**

**.  
**

Bella gasps, her eyes wide and her cheeks pink. "You told your wife that you want to sleep with me?"

"My estranged wife," he says, correcting her. "Yes. Honesty…remember?"

"Oh, God. I can't believe you did that."

"Actually, I don't want to _sleep_ with you, I want to make love to you." He glides a little closer, but she holds her hand out to stop him.

_Make love._ His unexpected seduction is making her head spin. She's weak under his gaze.

"Wait a minute. What did she say?"

He runs his hands through his wet hair. "Lauren's a realist, Isabella, she pointed out that since I wanted to, she couldn't understand why I hadn't. She had cut her ties with me, after all. She finally asked me if it was because you didn't want to."

"What did you say?"

"I told her that I wasn't sure."

Overwhelmed, Bella sinks down into the water and pushes off, gliding backwards away from him. When she's a length away she just lets her bones go to jelly and she floats, her ears submerged so she's shrouded by silence. She closes her eyes as well, so the only sensory input is the shouting inside her head. She takes several deep breaths trying to calm herself.

After a minute, she senses he's near her again. She slowly turns her head so that one ear is exposed, and opens her eyes. He's watching her carefully, a hint of fear in his gaze. He reaches over and traces his fingertip down her cheek. "Are you okay?" he whispers.

Still floating, she nods her head. She's aware that she's laid out before him. She's completely vulnerable, yet she trusts him.

He looks hopeful. "Is _this_ okay…?" he asks softly, as he circles his touch along her jaw.

She bites her lip and nods again.

His fingertip slowly trails down her neck and over her shoulder as she floats. Her heart is fluttering like a hummingbird. Her breasts rise out of the water and he drags his finger down between them, and when he gets to her belly button he circles it. She takes a sharp breath and closes her eyes.

She feels his hot breath against her ear-his voice ragged when he speaks. "Do you want me, Isabella? Do you want me the way I want you?"

She presses her eyes closed tighter and nods, every part of her aware of his nearness, the air on the wet areas of skin not submerged. They're surrounded by cool water, yet he's lit a fire inside of her. The fire is moving, hot licks against the underside of her skin.

_Oh, how she burns._

This time his finger grazes over her lips, then circles her breasts, tracing slowly over her nipples. She feels her legs ache to be pulled open as she floats.

She moans as his single finger slides against her. She is wet in all this wetness.

"Edward…"

She feels his lips, soft against her cheek.

"You want me," he says, his eyes dark with emotion.

"Yes." She opens her eyes and for a moment it feels like he can see into her soul.

She feels his arm slide under her back, lifting and turning her until she's no longer floating but facing him in his arms.

"Isabella," he whispers, pulling her closer.

Wrapping her arms around him, she's sure that he can hear her heartbeat.

When he kisses her, it's everything, his lips all consuming. The passion thundering between them so powerful that she grabs onto his shoulders and holds tight. When they finally pull apart, they're both stunned.

"Why did I wait so long to do that?" he asks.

She sees joy in his expression and it makes her smile. "Because you wanted to make me so wound up for you that I wouldn't turn you down."

"Did I?"

"Oh, God, yes."

He kisses her again without restraint, one hand buried in her wet hair, the other wandering down to her breast. She shudders with the brush of his thumb back and forth across her nipple.

"I would have these long conversations with myself," he explains, breathless. "Stern conversations where I'd convince myself not to kiss or touch you." He leans over and slowly kisses his way up her neck.

"And why was it such a horrible idea to kiss me?" she asks, her head falling back to welcome his lips.

"Because you've become the most important friend to me, and if we kiss it'll mess up our friendship."

"That's true," she agrees and she lightly scrapes her teeth over his stubble. "We should never, ever kiss again." She presses her lips against his and works her tongue into his welcoming mouth.

He groans and lightly pinches her nipple before whispering into her ear. "Never, ever, ever. It's just a stupid idea. Think of all the bad things that could come out of it." He lightly bites her lower lip before kissing her again.

"Really bad things. I mean, you could get aroused against your will." She presses against him. "Oh, Jesus, really aroused."

"Yeah, and then I'd have to do something about that. You know…" He's rocking against her now. "I'd have to put it somewhere."

She gasps as she feels his hand slide between her legs. "Like inside of me."

"Yeah," he groans, his fingers stroking her. "And that's the worst idea in the world. I mean what will it do to our amazing friendship if I need to be inside of you all the time?"

She nods in agreement while her hand slides down to touch him. "Such a bad idea, because that would lead to other things we also shouldn't do."

"Absolutely," he agrees, kissing her hungrily. "What kind of wrong things do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know, I may need to put my mouth on you and you may not like that at all."

His chest is heaving. "Oh, God. That could be hard to endure. I'm not sure your warm, wet mouth on me would be a good idea. Because then, of course, I would insist on putting my mouth on you, and my tongue…well, it may make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," she gasps. "So uncomfortable."

He shakes his head sternly. "All of that pleasure can be very overwhelming. It might wear you out."

Latching on to her nipple, he sucks hard as he fights an internal battle not to just grab her hips and push her down over him right in the pool. This teasing is making him wild. He needs to be inside of her like a high school kid on prom night.

"I'm sure you'd wear me out." She groans as she takes his head and pulls him deeper into her cleavage.

He growls as he looks up at her. "This is all your breasts fault, you know. I'm going to blame them when our friendship implodes." He takes her other nipple in his teeth.

"Edward," she moans.

"Your breasts," he responds. "Your perfectly beautiful breasts."

"And why is it their fault?" She's panting as she looks down at him and his seductive, hooded eyes.

"The wet T-shirt, the hard nipples. What did you think, that I would see that and all this restraint I've maintained for weeks wouldn't just crumble? Did you think I'd not have to have you? I'm a man, Isabella…how much longer did you think I could hold back? Give me some credit."

"So a wet T-shirt and you're willing to throw our unique and special friendship away?"

"I guess so." He frowns. "Now you're making me think deep thoughts."

"Forget about deep thoughts, this isn't the time for that. Are you going to make love to me or what?"

He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around him. In his excitement, she feels weightless in his arms. With his hands firmly holding her up, he climbs up the stairs and out of the pool. As he stands with them dripping on the pool deck he pauses.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"I'm not sure of anything," she answers honestly. "We're not even drunk."

"No, we're not. Maybe we should be. But I need you now, I can't…"

"My bed," she responds, nodding towards the French doors.

She buries her head in the crook of his shoulder as he carries her across the yard and into her house. They're dripping all over the floor and he has to focus not to slip.

"This way," she says, holding her hand up towards the hall to her bedroom . When they approach her bed, he gently lies her down and then crawls over her, kissing and touching her all the places he always wanted to.

He presses against her, desperately needing to be inside her, but first he props his weight up, trying to hold back just a minute longer. He knows once he has her there's no going back.

She reaches up and caresses his face. "Just one thing."

"Anything," he whispers, as she pulls apart her legs and his fingers glide over the soft, welcoming skin of her thighs.

"If we start doing this very thing we shouldn't…"

"Yeah?" He notices the sheets are getting soaked and he wipes the water that's trailed down his face out of his eyes. He leans over and slowly licks each nipple as he watches her, waiting for her request. He knows he'll give her anything.

"If we're going to mess with our friendship, and be stupid and selfish, and let our logic be overrun by our lust…"

"Uh huh?" he asks. He's having trouble focusing as he lifts up and his eyes move over her. She's even more beautiful bare than he imagined.

"…will you please do your very best not to break my heart?"

He takes a deep breath and he wants to joke, play with her like they've done to ease the tension, but he knows she means it. Her fear takes his breath away. He wants her to believe in him, but his heart's fragile as well.

He gives her a sad smile. "Maybe you'll be the one breaking my heart."

She nods, but then smiles back. "Or maybe I'll be the one unbreaking it. You know, helping put it back together again, Mr. Humpty."

_You already have_ he thinks as he caresses her cheek, their looks as they gaze at each other saying all the rest.

Impatient, she pulls him closer.

As he slowly eases into her, he watches her intently, the delicate flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips part. _Good God,_ she's perfection and she doesn't even know it. He can't remember when he's felt so alive, as if he's just woken from a winterless hibernation.

When their hips finally meet, she arcs back and moans.

"Oh, God."

He pulls back and pushes in harder. He can't believe how right this feels.

"So good…" he responds, the heat spreading across his chest.

Her eyes blaze as she grabs a fist of his hair and pulls him down into a fierce kiss. Her hips swivel under him.

Knowing Isabella, he fantasized that she'd be an expressive, passionate lover, but there was no way to imagine the feeling when he's deeply seated inside of her: touching, thrusting, tasting…loving her.

"Harder," she encourages, as he sucks on her nipple. She looks euphoric as she rolls her head side to side. Her fingers move over him, caressing, pinching, pulling. She's not too wild, just wild enough to make his blood boil, each thrust pushing her into the mattress hard.

_Oh God, this woman._

He rises like a warrior, amped up on the adrenaline high of her legs wrapped around him as her body moves in perfect synch with his. Her kisses, cries, and words make him believe he's perfection, too….make him feel like a king. He growls, his movements less controlled when he feels she's on her edge. He's electrified as he joins her there.

As she gazes into his eyes, she senses that every part of her self is opening up to him. When they climax, she falls and falls through air and light, landing in his open arms.

She isn't even afraid when she realizes the greatest truth yet – …that he now holds her heart in the palm of his hand.

.

..~*~..

.

They are spent and sprawled across the sheets when he finally speaks. "Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all."

She curls into his side and sighs happily. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was the best idea we've ever had."

She laughs softly.

Everything about her is charming him.

"What, sunshine?"

"I just realized that the bed is all wet."

"Maybe next time we'll dry off first."

"Or maybe not. Who cares about wet sheets. Hey, I'm starving. You want another bagel?"

"Bagel? Remember, I was going to take you out to dinner? Let's get some real food."

She rolls closer and nibbles on his shoulder. "I'm glad the bagels aren't in here to hear your belittling them. Not real food! What did bagels ever do to you? Besides, I'm all melty after what you just did to me. I'm not sure I can eat without laying down between bites."

He grins. "Do you want me to just order some pizza and feed you in bed?"

"Perfect. I have stuff to make a salad."

Something suddenly occurs to Edward. "Hey, when are you expecting Jacob back?"

"Don't worry about being caught in bed with me," she teases. "There's a dinner after his conference tonight and then he's meeting up with some old friends."

Edward relaxes back against the pillows. "Okay. I wouldn't want to make things awkward for you with your son. Where can I find the number to order pizza in this neighborhood?" He leans over and kisses her.

"I'll get up in a minute to find it, but there is one other thing I need to do first," she says.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"I just want to lie here for a while and stare at you."

"Really? And why do you want to do that?"

"I'm not done fathoming your magnificence."

"Oh Jesus, woman, you better tone it down. If you make me feel any better, any more ecstatically happy, I may never leave your wet bed."

She tips her head and smiles. "Well, that was kinda the idea."

.

.

"Here, I just picked off all the green peppers for you. Are you happy now?"

"Can you pick off every other mushroom, too?"

"Why did you tell me it was okay to order the combo pizza when you have all of these vegetable issues and demands?"

She grins and shrugs. "I was testing you for flexibility in the face of my pizza eccentricities."

"How'd I do?"

"You lost points when you refused my request that the restaurant not exceed more than three olives per pizza slice, but then you picked off the extra olives for the win. As a result, you passed with flying colors." She pushes both arms up into the air in the 'touchdown' gesture.

He laughs. "Well, that's a relief. As incredibly charming as you are, you're a little odd about your pizza." He rubs his chin. "I suppose I should warn you though that I have issues, too. Sometimes I order pizza with no tomato sauce."

She shakes her head woefully. "Good grief. And you're calling me odd?"

.

.

He leans back against the headboard while she stretches out her legs across his lap.

"Hey, your guitar's still here from last time. Are you still going to play for me later?"

"Mmm hmm." He nods after taking a bite of his third slice.

"Tonight I want only romantic and sexy songs."

"That's going to cost you more," he huffs.

"How much more?" She edges closer to him and bats her eyelashes.

He grins playfully, leans over and kisses the inside of her knee. "We can work something out. I have a very flexible payment plan."

"I bet you do," she says as she bites her lip and slowly eases the sheet off of him.

.

..~*~..

.

Now that the sun has fallen, she's turned on the little twinkly lights under the canopy, and they sit outside with their wine and their smiles. Their bare feet are dirty from the wet grass and their hair's wild, but they're blissfully happy.

He softly serenades her while she sits on a cushion at his feet, slowly stroking his calf. They can't stop touching each other now, as if there's a physical need to be connected.

The words to James Blunt's, _You're Beautiful_ sound especially lovely to her tonight.

When he's done, he sets down his guitar and takes a sip of wine as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I got a call from an old friend named Sean yesterday."

"That's always a nice surprise."

"Yeah, when we were young, Sean and I used to play music together. Anyway, he's been teaching music at L.A. Unified for a while. He really built this program up in the middle school he's at, and he's devastated because he got laid off last week. The whole program was dismantled because of the budget cuts. It just kills me because you've never seen anyone put more heart into something."

"Oh, that's awful. Can't something be done?"

"He said that they've done every kind of fundraiser, but it's just not near enough to support the program if they don't have any backing from the city budget. He got all of these kids to fall in love with making music and now it's all been taken away."

Bella shakes her head sadly.

"So it got me thinking about what my mom had done, and wondering if maybe that's what the money they left me is supposed to be used for."

Her face lights up. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, I want to talk to Rose because, for tax reasons, we still own the building Mom ran her program out of. When her disease progressed, she had to let the project go so we leased the space to a local business. They went under over six months ago and the space is still standing empty. "

"So is that where you would establish things again?"

"Maybe. We'd convert it back to a music center the kids can go to after school and start up her program again. It's key that it be in their neighborhood. I was thinking that Sean and Julia, the other music teacher that got laid off, could teach there. Hell, I could, as well."

"I could help you with fundraising. I've done that before for Jacob's school and I'm good at it," Bella offers.

"I bet you are." He pulls her up onto his lap and kisses her cheek.

"I'll help you however I can."

"You'd do that?"

"I'd love to."

She looks up into his eyes and sees life and energy. His spirit feels powerful, and it's exciting to watch him realize that he can harness it to do something good.

He pulls her tight against him. "For the first time in a long time I feel a purpose, Isabella. You've inspired me. I know it's because of you."

"No.., it's you," she insists. "The right moment just needed to come along."

"You came along," he says, kissing her boldly. His eyes light up with another idea. "Hey do you think those sheets are still wet?"

"Maybe, but they can be changed. Why?" she asks, smiling.

He stands and lifts her up into his arms. "Because I need to lay you across them and make love to you again."

"Oh my," she whispers.

He takes his finger and lightly skims it up her arm. "I need to slowly worship you until I bring you to your complete undoing."

"You're well on your way," she says as she takes his hand and pulls him toward the house.

.

..~*~..

.

A couple of nights later, they join Alice and Jasper for dinner at El Coyote. They're seated in a booth in one of the side rooms under large mosaic and old Mexican lanterns. The stained glass panels of the lanterns glow in the soft light.

"So I talked to Rose and she's all for the idea," Edward says happily.

Alice and Jasper smile at each other before looking over at Bella. The waiter starts transferring the margaritas from the tray to the table as Jasper loads another chip with guacamole and stuffs it in his mouth.

"Edward says you've talked your accountant into helping look into grants," Alice says to Bella.

"Yes, he knows a lot about it because he helped his sister get a couple grants for an animal shelter project in San Francisco."

"Cool," Jasper enthuses.

"Yeah, I'm going to try to ignore the fact that her accountant is her ex-boyfriend," Edward says as he takes Bella's hand, squeezes it, then doesn't let go. Both Alice and Jasper notice and give each other a look.

"We broke up a long time ago and have been friends since," Bella explains to Alice and Jasper before turning toward Edward. "Like you have anything to worry about."

He grins happily and takes a sip of his margarita.

"I have an idea!" says Alice. "Why don't we have a launch party at the club? You could perform, Edward."

"And what if you got some of your friend, Sean's students to play," Bella throws in.

"Hey, what about Marley? She'd probably get involved," Jasper adds.

"Do you think she'd perform?" Edward asks excitedly.

"I bet she would, she's really into programs like this," Jasper says confidently. "You know she grew up in the projects and has done a lot of work to help families there."

"Why don't you talk to her and see what her touring schedule is like. Meanwhile, Emmett is helping me with the business plan. He wants the center to be able to sustain itself eventually without depending entirely on me. The non-profit stuff is really complicated. I remember Mom & Dad complaining about it."

"We'll also need to put together marketing materials to promote the event. You should get a website up," Alice says.

"I could shoot the portraits for the fliers and website," Bella offers. "I also bet a lot of my clients would be interested in supporting this idea."

"We're a good team," Alice points out.

Edward tips his head down and gets quiet.

Worried, Bella leans into him. "Are you okay?"

He looks up at her and she can tell that he's struggling with his emotions.

He presses his free hand down on the table top as he thinks. When he finally looks up, he smiles. "This is just…" He shakes his head.

"What?" Bella asks softly, squeezing his hand.

"It's just good. Really, really good."

..~*~..

During their drive home, they're both quiet, thinking about how everything is swirling around them with so many changes in a short period of time. When they pull into Bella's driveway, she turns to him.

"I'm so proud of you, Edward."

He smiles contentedly. "Thank you."

"And I want you to know that whatever happens with us, I'll support your efforts with this music project. Even if you get back with Lauren, I'd still like to be involved."

"Isabella…"

"No, don't say anything. I may be a very different woman than Lauren, but I'm also a realist. These last few days I've spent with you have been so wonderful, but I haven't forgotten that you and Lauren still have a lot to meet and talk about. You dedicated a lot of your life to loving her, that kind of stuff doesn't just go away."

He turns off the ignition and as soon as they are out of the car, he pulls her close.

"Hey, you…" He gently runs his fingers through her hair as he studies her. She's trying to be strong, but he sees the veil of vulnerability just under her skin.

She gives him a brave smile.

"Can you see that was my old life…this is my new one."

"I love that you're trying to reassure me, really I do." She takes his hand in hers. "Let's just take this a day at a time, see how things go and enjoy every moment that we can. Okay?"

He turns and looks over his shoulder. "Here, I'm going to prove to you that I'm a new man."

She grins. "Yeah? And how are you going to do that?"

"What did you say once? Sometimes a swing is the only thing that will do."

He steps back into her yard, smiling at her until he reaches the swing hanging from the old oak tree. "I hope I don't break this thing," he mutters.

He sits down and pushes off, feeling like a little kid. It takes him a bit to find his rhythm.

She sinks down onto the grass and lays back, propped up on her elbows as she watches. He's awkward at first, but then finally gets some air underneath him.

"Higher," she teases.

He scowls, but puts more weight behind it. Once he gets some height, he imagines he will fly up into the tree's branches. He allows himself to not feel childish, to embrace the moment. He closes his eyes and cuts through the night sky, wondering what it would be like to touch the moon.

She smiles happily as she watches, knowing he's surrendered to the feeling. It's glorious to see him soaring with each arc of the swing.

When he opens his eyes again, she calls to him, "You're flying!"

He nods and swings for a minute before slowing down enough so that he can jump off gracefully. He approaches her and settles down on the grass next to her.

"I'm impressed," she says.

"Yeah?" He pulls her over on top of him, and she straddles his hips and rests her hands on his chest.

"Very much so. You're an impressive man, you know."

"Well, you always make me feel that way." He pulls her down into a kiss that tastes delicious, warm and sweet with a hint of margarita salt.

When she sits back up, he slowly unbuttons her blouse from the bottom hem up as she watches him.

"You daring man," she teases, nodding out towards the quiet street. "Are we going to put on a show?"

Even under the shadow of night, they can't know for sure if anyone can see what he's doing to her.

"I just have been thinking about touching this soft skin all evening," he says in a low voice as he pulls the fabric panels apart, then runs his hands up her torso and cups her breasts. He smiles, his eyes shining in the moonlight. She sees in them how much he wants her.

_How does he do it?_

With a just a look and a few of his touches she is full of desire, not caring that they are on her front lawn and her neighbor Brian just pulled into his driveway. She presses down over him so she can feel him harden beneath her.

He groans and tightens his grip on her hips, but when he hears Brian's car door close, he quickly pulls her shirt closed. He scoots out from under her and rises up, offering her his hand.

"Come on, baby." He wraps his arm tightly around her waist as he walks her to the front door. Before she lets them in, he presses up behind her and brushes his lips against her ear. "I need you something fierce."

.

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* * *

_Looks like we're getting somewhere..._

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_Thanks for reading and your reviews are so appreciated.  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_I've put up a FaceBook page where I'll post pic teases and stuff from the story. Check it out. Just do a search on FB for Abstract Way or find the link on my FF profile page. See you next Saturday!  
_


	12. Chapter 12 The Future

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_**  
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This is the part where I remind you of the angst warning...**  
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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twelve / The Future**

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"So, we'll leave on the twenty-first," Edward says. "You're sure that works for you? Have you been able to move your shoots around?"

Bella almost drops the phone, she's so excited. "I can't believe this is really going to happen. That's less than three weeks away!"

"It sure is, and I just wanted to be sure before I book it and pay for the tickets. I've got them up online right now, I just have to hit the purchase button."

"And don't forget that I insist on paying for the villa," she says with determination.

"We're talking about the plane tickets right now," he deflects. "Did you confirm with Leonard?" His tone when he says "Leonard" is less than flattering. Edward makes him sound like an insurance salesman.

"It's pronounced Leo-_nard_-o, Mr. C. Yes, we've been emailing and he's confirmed he'll be in town and he's very much looking forward to seeing me."

"I bet he is."

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Ever since I tracked him down you've been this way whenever he comes up."

"Not every time," he replies defensively.

"Pretty much. Have you forgotten that this is why we're going to Italy? I mean we'll do some sightseeing and stuff, but there is an underlying agenda."

"Yes, I know," he huffs.

"I could go alone. That was always the plan until you came along," she teases.

"No. I don't want you going alone. You may never come back."

"I was joking when I first said that."

"Maybe, but I'm not willing to risk it. I'm going with you."

She sighs contentedly. "I'm glad. I really want you to go with me. I want to kiss you on a balcony overlooking the hills of Tuscany."

"Guess what?" he asks playfully.

"What?"

"I just hit 'purchase tickets'. We're going to Italy."

.

..~*~..

.

"You're having sex, aren't you?" Leah asks in between count-downs of squats. "From the looks of it, lots of sex."

Bella arches her brow. "What do you mean 'from the looks of it'?"

"I don't know…the high color in your cheeks and you even look a little firmer. Your ass is looking really tight. Sex is great exercise, you know."

"Yes, I know." Bella smiles. "Are you going to give me grief about it?"

"Maybe not. You sure look happy. Well, you're always happy but you look extra happy. This Edward seems to agree with you."

"Oh my God!" Bella exclaims.

"What?"

"You didn't call him the man whore. You remembered his name."

"Yeah, I've decided to be supportive. But if he messes up…"

Bella shakes her head. "I'm a big girl, Leah. I can handle whatever's to come. And meanwhile, I'm having the best time I've had in years."

"All right, just promise me when you're in Italy you're going to take care of yourself…keep up your routine," Leah instructs. "Watch your food and don't forget your supplements-your multi, Ginkgo biloba, and your Omega-3s . I know you'll be walking a lot and having lots of sex, so that should cover the exercise."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Do you always have to be so thorough?"

"That's what you pay me for," she teases before getting a serious look on her face. "Speaking of being thorough and the trip to Italy, have you figured out yet how you'll present things to Jake's dad when you finally meet? I mean you can't just say, hey…guess what?"

"Yes, I've written it out like a speech to organize my thoughts. And I'm bringing a little photo book of pictures of Jacob through the years. Honestly though, I'm afraid I'll become completely unglued and say everything wrong. It's shocking news. How in the world will he take it?"

"It's anyone's guess," Leah admits. "That's not the sort of thing one can ever be prepared to hear, even if he's eventually happy about it."

"Even if he hates me for it and doesn't want to know anything about his son, I still need to do this. I have to make this right. He should know."

Leah smiles.

"What?" asks Bella.

"You're bravely going to Italy to see your Italian lover to tell him about the son he never knew he had. I know I give you a lot of shit, but I really do love you, woman. It's just never a dull moment when you're around."

Bella grins. "I love you, too."

.

..~*~..

.

"Guess what? The accountant and lawyer had kept up the non-profit status for the music program so if we want to reopen it under a new name, it can be a division of the original."

"That's great. Do you have an idea what you want to call it?"

"Yeah, I was thinking Esme's Place."

"That's lovely. Such a fitting tribute to your mom."

"I think she'd be so happy about this. Matter of fact, I kind of feel like she is."

"I'm sure she knows, Edward."

There's a quiet moment between them.

"So, are you still up for a movie tonight?" he asks, glancing at his watch.

"Yeah, I'm just heading into the lab to finally make prints for that Irish couple I photographed a while back. Their fortieth anniversary is coming and the husband contacted me because he wanted to surprise her with a framed print. Isn't that sweet?"

"Wow…fortieth. You don't hear about marriages that last that long anymore."

"I know, so I have to get this done right away. I can be ready around seven."

"That works. I'll pick you up then."

.

He's almost ready to leave to get Isabella when he notices there's a message on his cell phone. It must have rung while he was in the shower.

He punches in his passcode to retrieve the message and as it starts to play at first he doesn't even recognize the woman's voice.

_Hey, it's me. Listen, I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm up for a movie tonight after all. Can we do it another night? I'm just…_

There's a pause and she sounds choked up when she starts talking again.

_I can't…I mean… I've got to go. I'll call you later. Sorry._

The phone goes silent and he realizes that was the end of the message.

_What the hell is going on?_ He's never heard Isabella sound anything like this and she was in a great mood earlier. He grabs his car keys and hurries out the door.

.

He's completely wound up by the time he arrives at her house. He rings the doorbell over and over to no avail. Remembering where she told him she hides a key in the backyard watering can, he rushes through the side yard. By the time he's into the garden, he notices that the light is on in the studio. Could she still be printing in her lab?

He approaches the studio, moves quickly through the meeting room and down the hall to the lab. When he pushes open the door he stops in his tracks. Still wearing her apron and gloves she looks like she's slid down the wall and ended up sitting on the floor. Her head is buried in her arms, which are wrapped tightly around her knees.

"Isabella," he calls out.

She shudders, but doesn't look up.

He rushes over to her and kneels down. "Isabella, what's wrong?"

She turns her face sideways so that she can speak yet still not face him. "Didn't you get my message?"

"Yes, that's why I'm here."

She sighs. "Please, Edward. I need to be alone. Please just leave."

Frustrated, he watches her carefully trying to figure out what could be going on.

"You're freaking me out. What the hell happened? What can I do?"

"It's just me and my stuff. It's not you. Let me work it out."

"Your stuff can be my stuff too, Isabella. Let me help you."

She looks up at him and he's taken aback. Her eyes are rimmed in red, her face streaked with tears. Something clearly has devastated her.

"No, I assure you, this stuff is all mine." She sinks her head back down until her forehead is resting on her knees.

"What caused this? You were fine earlier…happy. Was someone in here?"

She looks up confused and looks side to side. "What? Oh no, it's nothing like that. I just had some trouble printing." Her tone is completely unconvincing.

_You had trouble printing? What the hell?_

He rises up and walks over to the viewing area and wash basin for the prints. There are a series of portraits still clinging to the stainless backsplash. The prints are of an older couple holding onto each other, smiling and laughing. Each one is better than the last. Their love and adoration for each other leaps right off the paper.

Edward studies them closer, looking for a clue as to what could have possibly happened. He's baffled. These are some of the most moving portraits he's ever seen.

He looks back over to Isabella and notices that her shoulders are shaking and her head is back down. She must be crying again.

"I don't understand. These images are amazing. Can't you see how great they are? Why in the world would you be upset?"

"I can't talk about it," she says in between sobs.

"You have to talk about it. I'm not leaving until you do," he states stubbornly. He loops his hands under her arms and pulls her up. Once she's standing and leaning against the wall, he peels off her gloves and unties her apron. She just stands there like a rag doll being undressed.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her down the hall until they reach the meeting room. Leading her to the couch, they sink down onto the cushions, and she curls up against him.

"Baby, what is it?"

With the gentle sound of his voice she starts to cry again.

"You won't understand," she whispers.

"Try me."

She twists her fingers together as she tries to find the words. He never thought he would see his happy Isabella in this kind of a state. It's shaken him, but he has to figure out a way to help her.

She takes a deep breath. "There was just something about them, their love…the life and years they had spent together. When I moved each print through the developer, to the stop bath, then to be fixed, the prints just started to talk to me."

"What did they say?"

She lets out a sob and he pulls her closer. "That I will never, ever have that."

"Have what?"

She wipes her forearm across her cheeks. "You know those sweet old couples walking hand in hand in the park. There is always something so special about them because they've shared so many years together...there's such a sweetness. I just will never have that."

"Why can't you have that? Absolutely, you _could_ have that."

"I don't think it's in my cards," she says with a deep sigh.

"Hey, why would you say that? Look at me. You never know. With your help, I could end up being a sweet old man. I could be _your _sweet old man."

"Oh God," she sobs.

He tries not to be offended at her slight. She's not herself, after all.

"Well, if I won't do, I'm sure there's plenty of other sweet old men that will be happy to hold your hand."

"You don't understand, Edward. It's just not going to happen for me, I know it. And I realized this afternoon how much I want it, how desperately I want it. To grow old with someone you love profoundly, with your whole heart."

He strokes her hair softly and rocks her gently. "I can't believe my bright light Isabella is so full of doom. This is so unlike you."

"There are things I'm afraid of, Edward."

"We're all afraid of something. That's our challenge isn't it, to learn to overcome our fears."

"But…"

"No buts. Overcome your fear. I can help you. Besides, it's my turn. Look how much you've helped me."

He pulls her onto his lap. "I know we're just starting to figure out what's between us, but I really think I could be a good old man for you."

The edges of her lips turn up just a bit.

"And I'd hold your hand and walk in the park every day if you wanted."

"Oh, Edward."

"And I'd take care of you."

She pushes back. "No. No taking care of me. Not that. Never that."

"Okay, I wouldn't take care of you…you're on your own with that." He rolls his eyes playfully. "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but did those chemicals get to you or something? You aren't thinking with a right mind."

She shakes her head. "I'm thinking with a very clear mind. That's the problem."

He's frustrated he doesn't seem to be getting anywhere. He decides to try another tactic. "Hey, why don't I pick up dinner and we'll just eat in tonight? We'll do the movie another night. I'll get you whatever you like."

"Anything?"

"Yes, anything."

"Can I have chocolate cake for dinner?"

"Chocolate cake? Uh, Oh-kay then, chocolate cake it is. But do you mind if I grill something?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "I don't mind."

"I'll get extra and maybe you can have some real food for dessert."

"Oh, Edward." She smiles softly at him.

"But before I go, I want you in the house and away from all this."

"I have to dry those prints though. I just left them up on the viewing panel."

He gets off the couch and pulls her with him. "Come on, you can show me what to do."

They slowly walk hand in hand to the back and she instructs him to peel the prints off and lay them in the water bath again. Once they are fully immersed for a minute, she has him pull them out, smooth them against the stainless and then carefully squeegee the water drops off their surface. She smiles as she watches him work so meticulously.

She goes over to the printer and turns it on, setting the automatic timer so it shuts off later. He gingerly holds the wet print by the corners and then lays it on the printer's fabric belt.

"Like this?" he asks her.

"Just like that," she assures him.

He follows through with the next few prints showing just as much care. Her heart aches watching him, knowing how deeply she feels about him. He said he wanted to grow old with her. She can't even process yet what that means. Everything between them is still so new.

When the last print is lying on the belt, he turns to her proudly.

"All done."

"Thank you." She goes up and kisses him, then gives him a smile. "You're wonderful, Edward."

He hugs her tight and together they walk out of the lab and away from all the darkness that haunted her.

.

He gets her a glass of wine and sets her up in the den watching _House Hunters International _on HGTV.

"This is really what you want to watch?" he asks as he watches a couple talk to a realtor. _What is the appeal in that?_

"I love this show. Look, they're shopping for a beach house in Fiji. Can you imagine?"

"Not really. I don't get it. How does one just traipse back and forth to Fiji?"

She ignores him, too caught up in the fantasy. "Oh my God, this house has an outdoor shower. I've always wanted a tropical outdoor shower."

He watches her settle in. Frankly, he doesn't care if the show's stupid or not; he's relieved that her mood's lifted.

"So chocolate cake for dinner…really?" he asks as he pulls out his car keys.

"Absolutely," she answers.

He kisses her on her head and heads out the door.

.

Once in his car, Edward leans back into his seat and reflects on everything that just happened. He's still freaked out. It was such atypical behavior for Bella that he doesn't know what to make of it.

He puts his key into the ignition and is halfway to the store when his mind starts going weird places. _What is she hiding? What if something's wrong with Isabella?_ She seems healthy, but that would explain why she's convinced she'll not have that type of relationship when she's old. Maybe she doesn't think she'll be around that long.

He starts to panic and he pulls over to try to calm himself down. The more he flips it over in his mind, the more sense the possibility makes. Then he remembers there's someone he can talk to about this…someone who would know.

He scrolls through his contact list until he finds Jacob Swan. He presses the send button, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Jacob picks up on the second ring.

"Edward? Is Mom all right?" He sounds nervous, Edward realizes that he better assure him first that she's safe.

"She's fine right now, but if you have a minute can I ask you about something that happened today?"

"Okay," Jacob responds tentatively.

"I found her completely distraught a while ago and it unnerved me. When I tried to find out what was going on, she actually cried over the idea that she won't grow old with someone. It just didn't make any sense to me."

Jacob is silent on the other end and it doesn't assuage any of Edward's fears, so he continues.

"Anyway, it got me thinking. Does Isabella have something wrong with her that I should know about? I'm taking her to Italy in three weeks, I should know if she's dealing with something I don't know about."

Jacob is still silent.

"Jacob are you still there?" Edward asks.

He lets out a sigh. "Yeah, still here."

"Listen, I didn't want to push her for the truth because she's too upset, but is she sick or something?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Jacob answers cautiously. All of Edward's red flags go up.

A little voice inside his head suggests something unthinkable. He has to know.

"Wait a minute. I'm feeling really anxious. Can I ask you something? I know I can research this myself, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"What?"

"That early kind of Alzheimer's that your grandma had, didn't you say it was Early Onset or something like that? Is there a genetic component to that?"

There's a long pause.

"I really wish you'd talk to mom about this," Jacob says with a weak voice.

"Maybe this would be better to hear coming from you, Jacob."

"What if I don't answer?"

"I can go home and look it up on the internet, but I'm anxious to get back to Bella."

He groans, frustrated. "Yes, there's a genetic component."

"Okay." Edward takes a deep breath. "And what are the odds of the gene being passed on?"

"I'd really rather…"

"The odds, Jacob," Edward demands.

"Fifty-fifty."

"Fuck."

Jacob stays quiet.

"And if you have the gene, what are the odds of getting the disease?"

"Edward…" Jacob pleads. He sounds broken and Edward realizes this very question has tortured the young man.

"Tell me," Edward demands, his stomach churning.

"One hundred percent."

"Oh God, no…No. Not Isabella. She has more life in her than anyone I've ever known."

Jacob says so quietly it's almost a whisper, "Yes, she does."

"But does she have the gene, has she been tested? After seeing her today what else can I think?"

He flings open his car door, feeling like he's going to lose it. He tries to take deep breaths and find his focus.

"Do you really want to know about this, Edward?" Jacob asks, exasperated. "You haven't even been friends that long."

"We're more than friends, Jacob."

"So what does that mean exactly?"

Edward surprises himself with what he answers. "I'm falling in love with her. I can imagine a future with her, but apparently she doesn't see one with me."

"But she told me that you may work things out with your ex."

"That's her interpretation of current events, not mine. Isabella's the woman I'm spending time with. She's the one always on my mind."

Jacob clears his throat. "Look, I don't know what to tell you exactly. Only mom knows the absolute truth. You see, after Grandma passed on, I insisted that mom get extended care health insurance just in case. I had done plenty of research and knew that if she got FAD…"

"FAD? What does that stand for?"

"Familial Alzheimer's disease. Anyway, I knew that if she got it, I wouldn't have the resources to pay for her care properly even working full time in research. I'd need to move her to a nearby facility so I could oversee her care, but it would need to be at a decent place. Some of them…"

Edward's stomach lurches as he cuts Jacob off. "I know. I've seen them. I had a good friend go through this with his dad who'd had a severe stroke."

"So you understand."

"Unfortunately, yes. Did you get the insurance?"

"Well, they wouldn't insure her unless she did the genetic testing. The cost risk is way too high for them."

Edward's heart is pounding. "Did she take the test?"

"She took the test but she refused to tell me the results."

Edward feels his throat constrict. "Why?"

"Well, honestly I don't think she looked at them. I know they're locked in her safe deposit box. We had many discussions about it and she was really torn about it. She felt if it was positive she wouldn't be able to handle it…to keep going. So I'm pretty sure she decided to lock it away for now.

"As for the insurance, she pays those bills through her accountant's office so I can't find out if she got the insurance or not. There's a blind account that either pays for the insurance or invests the payments and neither she nor Michael know which it is. If she got the insurance we would have our answer. Of course, she may not even need that insurance in that case."

"Jesus." Edward remembers Michael chiding Isabella for forgetting their meeting.

"But I'm sure the bigger reason she won't tell me is the familial factor, not only knowing I'll watch her disintegrate, but…"

Edward gasps. "That means you…"

"Yes," agrees Jacob stoically. "That means I would have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it, too."

"Oh God, Jacob. I'm so sorry."

"Don't feel sorry for me," Jacob says firmly. "'Cause we are going to cure the fucker before it takes me down."

"Yes," Edward agrees. He wants to believe in this kid and that he will fight the odds, or live long enough healthy until they find a cure_. _

_Is there time for Bella?_

"What age would it start if Isabella was to get it?"

"The range is thirty to sixty, so for all we know she already has it."

Edward's heart is pounding so hard he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. He can't even speak he's so shocked.

"Edward? Are you there?"

As the seconds go by, Jacob realizes he went too far.

"Shit! I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean to sound so cold and technical. We get so matter of fact in my work. She doesn't have it, Edward. I really don't think she does."

"How would you know?" Edward almost doesn't recognize his own voice.

"I don't," Jacob admits. "But I know all the signs to look for."

"That ex-boyfriend, accountant friend of hers, Michael, accused her of forgetting things."

"Michael can be an ass. Remember that forgetfulness is a natural process of aging. Women especially struggle with it at mom's age because of the hormonal shift."

"What do I do?" Edward asks himself out loud.

Jacob sighs, sounding defeated. "I wish I hadn't talked to you about this. I understand if you can't take the uncertainty, but mom seems crazy about you Edward. I can't think of what it will do to her if you just abandon her now."

"Abandon her?"

"…and I know she's kinda out there at times," he continues. "But can't you see, after Grandma died, Mom seemed to make up her mind to live every day exactly how she wanted to. She's one of the coolest people I know…and I'm not just saying that cause she's my mom."

"I know she is, Jacob."

"So can you promise me just to think about it before you make any big decisions?"

"Yeah, I'll think about it. But I'm not abandoning her. I couldn't, even if that's what my head was telling me to do, not with the way I feel about her."

.

When Edward parks back at Isabella's after shopping, he pauses in the car for a moment trying to pull himself together. He feels painfully hollowed out, but he knows he has to push it all inside so that she doesn't sense his agony. She's going through enough right now.

As he warily opens his car door, he wishes he were an actor. He's going to have to pull off an Academy Award worthy performance for her tonight.

.

As Edward carries the groceries in, he's relieved to see that Isabella's still in the den, but now she's on the floor doing something with a small structure resting on the coffee table.

"What's that?" he asks.

"One of my dollhouses." She grins widely at him and motions him over. "Come see."

He kneels down next to her until he's on the floor. "That's some dollhouse."

"Yeah," she replies. "It's a little eclectic for some tastes, but it's just right for me."

Every room is painted a different bright color and there are tiny paintings hanging everywhere.

"Watch this," she says as she reaches into the living room and presses a little button. When she pulls her hand back out, the fireplace starts to flicker.

Edward also notices that every tiny lamp in the house is lit. "Wow, where did you get this stuff? It's pretty amazing with all the detail."

"Oh here and there…eBay, swap meets, dollhouse sites. Fun stuff."

He grins at her. "It looks like you've had a lot of fun."

She studies him and the way his green eyes scan every feature. She wants to kiss him for feigning interest and allowing her this moment without ridicule.

"If you and I were tiny and lived here, what would be your favorite room?" she asks as she adjusts some of the flowers in the window box.

He leans in closer and scans each room again. When he sits back up he looks over at her. "The master bedroom, because that Magritte painting over the bed is one of my favorites, and…" He grins. "Think of all the miniature fun we could have in that fancy bed."

"I'm sure that would be my favorite, too," she agrees happily.

"So, I'm going to fire up the grill. Don't get into any tiny trouble while I'm gone."

"I won't."

As she waits for him she sits and sips her wine, pressing the fireplace button every time the dollhouse fire stops flickering. She can't believe this man and the care he's showing her. How can she possibly not fall in love with him?

Even with her heart still heavy from her meltdown in the darkroom, he's made her feel like there's something worth believing in for the future.

She gave up dreams of the future a long time ago. Now there's chocolate cake for dinner and kissing in the swimming pool. Is it possible that years from now she and a gray-haired Edward could stroll down the beach hand in hand?

What if Edward is her future?

.

.

* * *

_trust me..._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

For those of you that read Work of Art (and the author's notes) you know of my connection to Alzheimer's. I'm going to address that on the Abstract Way Facebook page. The link is on my bio.


	13. Chapter 13 The Treasure Chest

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy. I can't emphasize enough how much I appreciate these women and the care and attention they give me and this story._

_.  
_

_I've been incredibly moved by the stories and struggles you shared with me over the last week in your reviews. I wish I could lift your burdens and the sad memories you carry of your loved ones devastated by this disease. We are all in this together. xoxo abbie  
_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirteen / The Treasure Chest**

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Bella hears Edward bustling around in the kitchen after coming in from the grill. A couple of minutes later, he calls her into the dining room. He's managed to figure out where the placemats and silverware's kept. He pulls out her chair and gestures for her to sit.

She pauses for a moment to take everything in, to appreciate this man who's truly showing her how much he cares about her. Her heart swells at the thought of it, and how much he's changed and opened up since they met. In an effort to get close to her, he's gradually shed his protective layers one by one.

In their beginning, she sensed that somewhere buried under his sadness and loss was a man worth fighting for. Pushing him to accept her into his life was a low risk gamble compared to the potential payoff. Now as he gently pushes in her chair, she knows that with him, life dealt her a winning hand…a royal flush, and he's her king of hearts.

"Ready for your dinner?"

She nods, looking over to his plate to admire his dinner. It looks good, but she's hopeful he got her what she really wanted.

He steps back out to the kitchen and when he returns he's carrying a huge piece of chocolate cake with long, thin candles stuck in it. Instead of burning, they're emitting little sparks. He looks pleased as he gallantly sets it in front of her.

She looks up at him, grinning. "Where did you get these candles?"

"At the bakery where I got the cake," he answers with a smile.

"How did you know I loved sparkly candles?"

"I kinda had a feeling," he replies.

"And what are we celebrating?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, everything…the fact that it's Tuesday, the Lakers winning…you."

She rises up out of her chair and winds her arms around him. Tonight, he's her giving tree, a sturdy trunk to lean against as his branches stretch over her protectively.

"I want to celebrate you, too," she says softly.

.

.

That night in bed, Bella has an intensity he's never seen. Inspired by his tenderness, she's all hands and kisses, touching him everywhere. Every time he tries to reciprocate, she pushes him back onto the mattress.

"This is about me, and what I want," she teases as she licks and kisses her way up his inner thighs.

Propped up on his elbows, he watches her with hooded eyes. "Really? This seems to be more about what I want, baby."

She smiles seductively. "Well, I suppose you can say that we're both going to get what we want."

When her fingers wrap around him and she slides him against her lips, he moans.

"Oh, God."

She nods again. "See, I love this."

His heart pounding, he watches her as she slowly pulls him in. He sinks back on the bed, throwing his forearm over his eyes. He's afraid if he watches another second of her he won't be able to hold on.

"Isabella…"

How does she manage to be so passionate about everything she does? The pleasure soaks through him until he's near delirium. She's humming something as her tongue curls around him and pushes him to his edge.

_Good God._

He's been with different kinds of women in his life, but none like Isabella, who expresses every emotion through her body before a single word has been spoken.

Tonight she's a wildcat fawning over him. She purrs as she stretches over his heated skin, preparing him for mating. He imagines her on all fours on the wet earth, as he nips her neck and takes her from behind.

Her eyes spark and he wonders if she sees what he does, the two of them panting as he moves over her with sharp thrusts, his head falling back as he bays under the shadows of the moon.

"I can't take much more, Isabella." He gasps, grabbing onto her shoulders. "I need to be inside of you."

She grins as she crawls on top of him, sinking down over him like they were designed to fit together. She starts slowly rolling her hips as he watches, mesmerized.

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

She leans forward, gazing at him. "So are you."

Pressing into the soft part of her hips, his strong hands guide her through each slow thrust. Her skin has a pink cast, the blood just below her skin's surface surging with energy. His fingers edge towards her center and she quivers when his fingertip begins to circle just the way she likes it.

"I want to take care of you," he whispers, not even thinking about her earlier dismissal of that very idea.

She leans forward, her breasts grazing his chest as she licks his jaw, kisses him deep and slow, then rises back up. "You already do." She presses her hand over his. "You take care of me better than any man ever has."

In the haze of her delicious seduction, he's not sure if she means he's best taking care of her heart or her body, but he'll happily take it all. He watches her eyes widen as her moves get choppy and more intense.

"You like this?' he asks, his fingers seeking her pleasure. The spicy scent of their arousal flavors the air.

She nods frantically.

"Edward," she whispers, her voice a door closing as her body opens up.

"I'm there," she cries. Her eyes are wild. It's too much for him, the way she bites her lips red and the marvel of her tight wetness as she lets go.

He gasps and holds her firmly over him, filling her until their universe bends sideways, tearing open just enough for them both to fall inside.

.

.

For a long time after they lie silently, spooning tightly, his arm holding her against him. He can't imagine ever letting her go.

She's spent, finding comfort in his arms, his warm breath against her neck.

"Isabella," he whispers.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to talk about it…you know, what happened earlier?"

She shakes her head and doesn't turn around. "No."

He sighs.

"Are you sure? I want to help you with what made you sad."

He thinks about his conversation with Jacob and wonders how Isabella gets through each day. If it were him, the fear would eat him alive. He's amazed that until today he hadn't seen a sign of that shadow chasing her.

"I'm okay," she whispers.

She doesn't sound okay. She can't be.

His fear and sadness starts to swallow him. What if this brilliant woman of light and fire already has darkness inside of her? What if her brain is already beginning to disintegrate until she can't remember what he means to her?

Is he committed enough to stay by her side? Would he even be strong enough to handle it? He thinks about how satisfying it felt tonight, to be able to comfort her. Will that be enough?

"I find peace in knowing that there's a solution to everything," Isabella says quietly.

"Really?" he asks, his heart thundering. There's an intonation to her thought that's disturbing.

She nods and pulls his arm tighter against her.

"Can I be part of your solution?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Solution? You're so much more than that."

"Yeah?"

She slowly runs her fingertips back and forth along his arm. "Imagine I'm a kid in a pirate costume on the best ever treasure hunt of all. If I can put the clues together, I'll find my way to the 'X'. Once there, I'll dig feverishly until I unearth the locked chest."

"The treasure chest?"

She nods, grinning. "So I feel like I did that. I put the clues together and dug until I found the treasure chest, and that's where I found you."

He kisses her neck. "Was I locked up in the chest? Am I Houdini, or did you set me free?"

"No, you're not Houdini. You're _my_ treasure. My most prized desire."

"I like that," he says as he shuts his eyes, his exhaustion closing in.

"I thought you would. Finding you makes me believe that I should never stop digging. There are wonderful treasures we can find."

.

..~*~..

.

I want to meet your friends," he announces at breakfast the next morning.

She looks up surprised. "All of them?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Well, you seemed apprehensive about my women's group for one," she says.

"Yeah, maybe we'll skip them for now, but how about the others…starting with the important ones. How about Leah?"

She's thoughtful as she stirs her coffee.

"Leah's a tough customer."

"So I've heard."

"At one point, she thought you were a cheating man whore."

He chokes and spits up his coffee. Luckily he has fast reflexes and his napkin's already in his hand. "What?"

"You know, how you hit on me when I thought you were still married."

"I see. So what does she think of me now? She must know I'm still technically married, even if we're in the process of the divorce."

"Yes, she knows. She's better about it now. I'm pretty sure she won't beat the shit out of you."

"That's encouraging." He smirks. "Yeah, why don't I meet her first? It'll all be easy downhill gliding from there, right?"

"Yes," she laughs.

..~*~..

Edward studies the menu to find something he would consider edible. They'd agreed to take Leah to this organic health-food restaurant she particularly likes. Isabella thought it would put her in a more agreeable mood.

He's relieved to find some food he recognizes and is willing to eat on the menu. Although he's been trying to eat healthier since being sick, he was dreading the idea of having to consume a plate of mashed tofu and mung beans or something equally unappetizing.

Leah studies him as she folds her napkin over her lap.

"So how's the divorce coming along, Edward?"

"Leah!" Bella hisses, giving her the evil eye.

"What?" Leah asks, her open hands poised mid-air like she has no idea what the great offense was. "Is it a big secret or something?"

"It's okay," Edward says to Isabella before turning back to Leah. "What do you want to know?"

"Are we still in the 'divorce as a concept' stage? Or is this thing actually moving along?"

As much as Edward would like to tell her to fuck off, he knows that whatever Leah wants to know is probably something Isabella would like to understand as well. He decides to try to put up with her unruly friend.

"Isabella probably told you that it took me a while to come to terms with the divorce, so it was stalled for a while. Now it's proceeding and, as usual lawyers, are creative about stretching things out. That's how they make their money, but I would say it's moving along."

"And what would you do if your ex suddenly changed her mind, and begged you to come back to her?"

He notices Isabella grimace, but she also leans into them, like she doesn't want to miss his response.

"First of all, that isn't going to happen. She's been living with another man for a while and she knows I'm involved with Isabella now."

"I'm just saying, what _if_ it did? What would you do?" Leah pushes.

"Well, I guess I'd talk to her to hear why her mind changed. Everything that happened with us surprised me, and that would surprise me, too. The more I understand what's happened and why, the more I'll learn. How else can I be a good partner in my new relationship?" He smiles at Bella and squeezes her hand. "Isabella makes me so happy, and she deserves the best from me."

Leah gives Isabella a look. He knows he just somehow failed Leah's test, but he's not going to back down or lie, especially not with Isabella sitting next to him.

He lifts up Isabella's hand that's squeezed in his and gives it a kiss. "That doesn't mean I'd consider going back with Lauren."

"But that also doesn't mean you wouldn't," Leah snaps.

"Hey, you're twisting my words," he protests.

"Okay, enough," Bella insists. "I hear the hummus platter is great here. Should we order appetizers?"

.

The conversation shifts to how the girls first met when Leah hired Bella to shoot her head shots years ago. Edward is surprised to hear she wanted to be an actress.

"Oh, I didn't want to be an actress," Leah explains. "I did look into being a stunt double, but the injuries pissed me off so that didn't seem like a good fit. No, I always have current head and body shots for promoting my business. In this town the top trainers are known personalities."

"She's a big deal, you know," Bella says proudly. "I'm just lucky I was one of her clients before she got big. She gives me a really good deal."

"What's it like having your friend be your trainer?"

"Well, the upside is that I always know she's looking out for my best interest. Leah really cares for me."

Leah nods and smiles at Bella.

"And the downside?" Edward asks.

"Hmm." Bella looks over at the next table. "I may want to order that organic hot fudge sundae for dinner and I can't unless I want to hear a lot of grief about it."

"Damn right," Leah agrees. "The sugar and fat contents of that mess are off the charts. Where are the nutrients that your body needs?"

"So I shouldn't tell her what you had for dinner last week?" Edward asks playfully.

Bella's eyes light up. "No, we don't need to share that. Besides, Leah and I have an agreement about stuff I eat when she's not around."

Leah folds her arms over her chest. "Yeah, we came upon that compromise the hard way."

.

After the plates have been cleared, Bella excuses herself to use the restroom.

Edward clears his throat and looks over at Leah. "You've been a great friend to Isabella."

"And she to me," Leah replies.

Edward stirs his green iced tea with his straw. "So it seems like you're quite intent on keeping Isabella healthy." He tries to keep his voice casual, like he's not fishing, even though he's tense inside. It's obvious that Leah knows a lot about Isabella.

Leah nods. "That's the plan. I want her along for the whole ride."

"I want that too, Leah," Edward says, hoping he's conveying an understanding.

She studies him carefully. He's not sure what she's thinking, and he desperately wishes he knew.

"All right," she finally responds.

"Look, I know you're not convinced that I'm good for her, but I know I can make her happy."

"You already do. What I want to know is what happens when life gets hard? You guys are in an easy place right now."

He shakes his head then looks her squarely in the eye. "I don't know how things will be, but can't you see I want to try? She's given me so much…I just want to be what she needs."

.

..~*~..

.

Several nights later, Edward sits up in bed with a start, and in the quiet dim light of the loft, he glances at the bedside clock. The red glow flashes the number _four-fifteen_ ominously against the black face. He rubs his hands over his face roughly. _What is with these damn nightmares?_ Everything he tries to forget in his waking hours comes right back to haunt him in his sleep.

For the last four nights, his nightmares have been a variation of a deathbed scene with either his father, or Isabella. In the dream, he stoically sits bedside with them in a darkened room and waits. Every voice is hushed. Desperation is expressed in the constant smoothing of the bedding as the dank smell of death lingers in the room.

Tonight's nightmare featured Isabella in her final stage of life and was the most macabre he's had yet. She's slowly deteriorating before his eyes like a snowman in the sun, her features melting away, and her body sinking down into the mattress. When she starts crying out in agony, he jumps up, frantically trying to stop the melting, but he doesn't know what to do. Once again, he finds himself impotent to save the ones he loves.

.

Part of him wishes he'd never called Jacob about Isabella's meltdown. The dreams are the nighttime shadows of his fear. Sometimes life is much easier if you don't know all the facts. The reality is that since that call to Jacob, he hasn't been able to look at her the same way again. The uncertainty of Isabella's future would be hard for anyone to grasp, especially the man who's falling in love with her.

And there's no doubt that he's falling further and deeper in love. He shakes his head as he realizes how far Lauren is drifting from his thoughts now. He finally faces the fact that with Isabella he isn't really falling…

He _is_ in love.

.

.

The next morning as he lingers over his mug of coffee, he comes to terms with the idea that he has to talk to someone about what's weighing on his mind. Until he can unburden his thoughts and express his fears, he imagines this haunting will only get worse.

He rules out various friends, many of whom he's been out of contact with, finally realizing that his sister is the perfect person to understand this ache pulsing through him. She agonized through their dad's slow demise as well as he, and was inconsolable at his passing. She'll understand the range of feelings he harbors over Isabella's situation.

He catches her on her cell phone after dropping the kids off at school. They agree to meet in a few days, have lunch in Manhattan Beach, and then take a walk along the shore for a heart to heart. He's hopeful that talking to Rose will give him a clearer perspective to move forward with.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella welcomes Edward in her home as often as possible these days. She craves him, and each Edward 'fix' she gets, instead of satiating her, just leaves her hungry for more.

Today he comes by to help her get the luggage out of the attic. It doesn't matter that they both know that she can get it herself. He has an old-fashioned side where he likes doing certain tasks and she goes along with it since it makes him happy.

After he makes his way back down the ladder with luggage in tow, she brushes the dust off him and sprinkles kisses along his neck to let him know how much she appreciates his help. They settle into the kitchen where she serves up tall glasses of lemonade. They start going over their trip to-do list and details for their upcoming photo shoot when a thought occurs to her.

"Is it true that they only sell Nutella in Europe?" Isabella asks.

"Didn't I see a commercial for that stuff recently?" Edward says. "Is it that chocolate paste stuff made out of nuts or something?"

She laughs. "Yeah, that's it. And now that I think of it, you're right. They were pitching it like Nutella on toast was a nutritious breakfast for your kids."

"Remind me why we're talking about Nutella again?" he asks, looking down at their list perplexed.

"Oh, yeah!" She laughs. "Angela asked me to bring her back a couple of jars. I guess one of her favorite memories on her trip to Florence was breakfast in her hotel with Nutella-filled croissants."

"Well, you might tell her to check out Gelson's or Pavillions market before you become a Nutella importer."

"Maybe I'll go with her," she replies, a devilish look in her eyes.

"So you like Nutella, too?" he asks.

"I do, and I'm thinking that it'd be especially yummy if it's spread on your naked body."

He suddenly stands up and fishes through his pockets for his car keys.

"Hey, where're you going?" she asks.

"Where do you think? Nutella shopping, of course. You don't think I'm fool enough to pass that opportunity up?"

"But I thought you weren't going shopping until later," she responds.

"Why wait? I'm highly motivated now," he says, grinning.

"Oh, you wonderfully naughty man," she says before kissing him and tugging on his belt loops. "Hurry, will you-my sweet tooth has a hankering with your name on it."

He doesn't have to be asked twice. As he's about to march out the door, she calls out to him.

"Get the extra large size, handsome."

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Extra large Nutella for my extra large guy," she says, grinning.

He saunters back over to her and presses her against the doorway.

"Extra large?" he asks with a sexy smile, teasingly pushing his pelvis into hers.

"Oh, yeah…most definitely." Her tongue runs along the edge of his ear while her hand slides down between them and strokes him.

"Isabella," he warns in a low voice. He gazes at her with dark eyes as her hand moves. He likes watching her cheeks blush as he swells under her hand. He feels like a teenager, immediately hard, while his girlfriend's full of wide-eyed wonder at how quickly he responds to her touch.

"Now see what you've done," he whispers in a ragged voice.

His breath on her neck sends an erotic shiver down her spine. "Ahhh, I have to tell you that if you don't leave now, I'm not letting you go at all," she warns. Her fingers tighten over him and he groans.

He lifts her until her legs wrap around him. Their kiss is slow and heated, all tongues and moans while he grinds his arousal against her.

"Shopping can wait. I need you now," he says in a determined voice as he lifts her shirt up and pulls her bra down.

"…the sweet softness of your skin, your beautiful breasts," he pants. "Besides, I love the way you taste. We'll do Nutella later." He pulls her nipple into his mouth and moans as he sucks, his knees almost buckling with his own pleasure.

She cradles his head against her as she watches this incredibly sexy man-the beautiful orchestrator of her undoing. Her heart is pounding, her thigh muscles tightening in delicious anticipation as he rocks against her.

"Much, much later," she agrees.

.

..~*~..

.

That evening her studio is dark but for the lights she's set up for the shoot. As excited as Bella is to photograph Edward's portrait for the new music school project, she's nervous, too.

Edward senses that Bella's almost ready to start. His concern sparks when he glances up at her. She looks upset as she stands and studies him under the bright white light.

"Are you okay," he asks gently.

She nods and wipes a tear away.

He reaches for her, and she slides her hand into his.

"What is it, baby?" he whispers.

"This," she waves to the equipment and lights in her studio. "It's so important to me."

He looks up at her confused. "Do you mean…?"

She takes a deep breath and lets out a somber sigh. "Photographing you."

"We don't have to do it now," he says gently. "Alice says she doesn't have to have the photos until next week. She isn't getting Marley's photos until then."

"No, no," Bella assures him. "I really want to do it now."

She steps back and adjusts the camera and works on regaining her focus.

He looks over to the huge glowing box of light. It's ethereal, making him think of stories people have told about walking towards the light after near-death experiences. It's that compelling.

She steps closer to the light stand and studies his face.

"Is the light bothering you? I can add more fill to balance it if it's too much."

"No," he assures her. "I actually kind of like it."

He watches her use a light meter to confirm the settings. She moves the white screen on the opposite side of the light box a little closer. He understands from her movements and gestures that she's an artist and he admires her all the more for it.

She takes another deep breath and steps up to him again.

"Are we ready?" he asks.

She slowly runs her fingers through his hair, then down the side of his cheek.

"I just want you to know…" she says softly, her eyes suddenly glazed with tears again.

"Yes?" he asks, resting his hands on her hips.

"I want you to know that photographing _you_ is sacred to me."

"Oh, baby," he whispers, pulling her closer.

She places her hands on either side of his face. Her gaze is completely open to the point that he feels vulnerable for her. He can feel her heart beating through the tips of her fingers.

"It's sacred…" She pauses and takes a deep breath.

"Yes?" he asks softly, gently encouraging her.

Her eyes are wide and bright, almost childlike.

"It's sacred, Edward…because I'm in love with you."

He looks at her, really looks at her, hoping that she sees in his eyes that she's everything.

_His brave, brave girl._

He nods, rises up, and pulls her into his arms.

"Oh, my Isabella," he says softly, with reverence. "I'm in love with you, too."

.

.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading. I love hearing from you..._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Lots of good stuff on the FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway  
_


	14. Chapter 14 Love Potion

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy._**  
**

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Fourteen / Love Potion**

.

"Edward," Bella sighs, smiling. "You love me."

He lightly touches under her chin and tips her face up toward his. He smiles with happy eyes.

"I do. I think I always have."

"Oh, don't say that! Don't make this even more wonderful or it will be too much for my little heart to hold."

He rests his hand on her chest, where he imagines an iridescent ruby-red heart shimmers just under her skin. "Oh, I know this heart is really big, not small. You're so full of life, Isabella, that it astounds me. How could I help but fall in love with you?"

"Mmmm, so it's true…You love me," she whispers, as if she's still trying to believe it.

He kisses her forehead gently. "I do."

His lips skim down to her cheek. "I love you," he says softly. "Every single part of you."

Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath, feeling his lips on the tip of her nose.

"There too?" she asks, grinning.

"Oh yes, there," he confirms, lightly nibbling the tip before kissing it.

"Where else?" she asks.

She feels his warm breath brush over her as she closes her eyes. His lips gently press down over the right lid, and then the left.

"I love you here because you see me as I am, not as who you want me to be."

"That's lovely," she whispers.

"It's true," he insists.

He kisses her lips so tenderly that she almost swoons. "I love your lips because they tell me the truth, and in that truth you taught me to believe in myself again."

He hears her take a sharp breath and looks up in time to see a tear escape down her cheek. She swipes her hand across her face.

"Damn, I'm emotional today. No crying!" she insists to herself. "Not in this perfect moment."

He pulls her tightly against him. "Exactly, Isabella. Crying can make you feel weak, and we are strong."

She nods in agreement. "We are strong."

He runs his hand down her back. "Maybe we should do this shoot another time, when we're both feeling less..."

"Intense? Emotional? Are you kidding? That is the exact reason we should do it now," she insists. She pulls back and focuses on pulling herself together.

She turns and walks to the camera. He watches her look through the lens, take a moment to step away, and then take a deep breath and move back to look through the viewfinder again.

"Are you sure about this? Is something wrong?" he asks, wondering if something is off with the lighting or the camera.

But instead she shakes her head and grins at him. "No, no…everything's so right. I'm just buzzing with the thrill of all of this. It's unbelievably exciting, this surge inside of me, like fireworks going off in my heart. BOOM!" she says loudly, infectiously.

"Boom?" he asks, grinning.

"Boom, baby…BOOM! We are in love!" she says, her face alight. As he smiles back at her, the strobe light flashes again and again.

.

In his early days he was photographed frequently, but he can't remember a shoot like this, where his connection with the photographer is so intense that he doesn't even realize the shots are being taken. Just like always, Bella brings something wonderful out of him. She makes him feel like he's the most interesting subject in the world.

They end the session with a long cable release in Isabella's hand. She joins Edward in the frame and he wraps her in his arms as she squeezes the trigger and fires the shutter at random times. They kiss, and laugh and hug, the camera a voyeur in the presence of something extraordinary.

There's no doubt she's captured him, both on film and in the flesh, and most profoundly she's captured his heart.

.

..~*~..

.

Two days later, the beach is empty but for a few random sunbathers as Edward and Rose walk along the shore.

"So Emmett says now that you're ready to proceed with the divorce that Lauren is starting to stall a bit."

Edward looks up at her, surprised. "Yeah, I guess so. I have no idea at this point what's on her mind. I'm leaving that up to the lawyers."

"You mentioned that you and she had dinner to finally discuss things. Did that change anything for you?"

"Yes and no. I've always known that the fact that I neglected her while I was taking care of Dad doesn't justify what she did. I know now that I will never get the answer that I had been hoping for, an explanation that would make me understand the choices she made. At the end of the evening we agreed to talk again, but now I really don't think I need to."

"Because you're focused somewhere else. Am I right?" Rose asks, smiling.

Edward nods and turns his face up toward the sun. "I'm in love with Isabella, Rose."

She smiles at him warmly, yet remains silent as they move forward.

"What are you thinking?" he asks as he watches her. "Rebound? Too soon? That I'm moving too fast?"

She shakes her head. "No, none of that. I'm happy for you. I think Bella's great, and it's quite obvious that she brings out the best in you."

"She does." He sighs.

"I'm just waiting to hear what you were so upset about the other day when you called me about getting together. I could tell something was weighing on you. Was it about Lauren?"

His expression falls as he remembers calling Rose to talk about Isabella and the potential curse of her genetics. He's managed to push it out of his mind since the photo shoot.

"There's something about Isabella, something I'm trying to come to terms with."

"This doesn't sound good," Rose says somberly.

"No, it isn't good. It's horrible actually."

"Okay…"

"I found out from Isabella's son that there's a fifty percent chance she has the genes for the disease her mom died of."

Rose looks wary. "Which is?"

Edward takes a deep breath and steels himself. "Early onset Alzheimer's."

He can see the blood drain from her face. "I don't know much about that, but I have an idea. Define 'early onset'," Rose asks quietly as she looks down at the wet sand.

"It strikes between thirty and sixty, and the decline is faster than regular Alzheimer's," Edward replies.

"And how old is Bella?"

"Forty-two."

"Good God. So it could happen at any time."

Edward nods. "Yes."

"Can anything be done? Is there any treatment?"

"Nothing significant yet."

"So you could end up a caretaker again." She shakes her head. "Oh, Edward."

"I don't know what I'm capable of handling, Rose. Not when it comes to Isabella."

"I know what you're capable of. The question is, do you love her enough to move forward knowing that's a possibility?"

"Maybe when I first heard the news, I thought I had a choice to make. But now I don't feel that way. Now I can't imagine not having her in my life."

They walk a long stretch of the beach silently. The waves move in and out, rushing over their feet and washing away their footprints.

Rose steps close to her brother, and links her arm in his.

"Do you want to hear what I think?" Rose asks.

"That's why I'm here," Edward responds.

"You know, we never know how long we have with anyone Edward. There are car accidents and plane crashes, cancer and heart attacks. A father of one of the kids in Eric's class died instantly of a brain aneurism last month. He was one of the healthiest, most dynamic men I'd ever met."

Edward nods.

"She may not get it. You said fifty-fifty, right?"

He nods again.

"Or you may have ten brilliant years before it hits her. Or you may have one brilliant year and then you get hit by a bus." She smiles at him and he laughs.

"Yeah, a big-ass bus. What a mess that'd be."

"Exactly. And even if the very worst happens, she may not want you to be the one taking care of her. There are facilities with experts for that, you know."

It makes him sick to think about it. He couldn't just leave her in one of those places.

"Have you guys talked about all this?"

"No," he says. "It didn't seem like the time yet."

"Well, when you're ready you need to talk to her. I wouldn't wait too long, Edward. You need to start this relationship with everything on the table…complete honesty."

"Yes," he says.

"You and Lauren pushed everything uncomfortable away for years. Look where that got you. Do this relationship differently. Okay?"

He nods firmly. "I will."

He stops and turns to his sister, then kisses her on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Anytime, big brother," she says, squeezing his arm. "I'm always here for you. Don't forget that, all right?"

"I won't forget this time. I love you, you know," he says, feeling grateful to have his sister to talk to.

"I know. I love you, too. And I'm going with the glass half full. She's not going to get it. Positive thinking, okay?"

He nods. "Positive thinking," he says with conviction. He knows his Isabella would be that way if their situation were reversed.

They both turn and take a long look at the endless horizon before heading back home.

.

..~*~...

.

"You sure you don't want the house?" Lauren asks while her lawyer watches, mystified.

"Nope, you can have it," Edward replies. He knows he could never live there again. His new aim is to move forward, not to remain stuck in the past. Lauren senses this and seems to be rattled by it.

The lawyers finish the meeting by coming up with another list of things to resolve. Edward doesn't linger, but quickly heads to the parking lot. He sighs when he realizes that Lauren is rushing after him.

"Hey, Edward," she calls out.

He turns to her and waits until she reaches him. "Yeah?"

"We were going to do a follow-up dinner to talk about things. Can we schedule that?"

He looks down at his car keys as he turns them over in his hands. "You know, I think I'll pass on the dinner thing. I heard what I needed to last time. I'm finally moving forward. I think I need to keep my focus there."

"Really?" Lauren squints as she studies him. "Have you become more serious about the woman you told me about last time or something?"

He nods. "Yes."

"I see. Okay," she says, struggling to sound neutral. "Well, I'm happy for you."

He watches her, trying to figure out if she really has it in her to be that generous. He's doubtful, but he tries to keep things light. "Thank you."

"And what was this about you getting your mom's music program going again?"

She's up to something—he knows it. "Is this about the alimony?"

She laughs, but it sounds hollow. "You wound me, Edward…really. You know I always loved that program. I helped Esme promote it if you remember."

He softens as he thinks of it. "Yes, I do. I'm sorry. It's just…"

She waves her hand. "It's okay." She tips her head. "Listen, I saw someone post on Facebook that you guys are doing a benefit concert to raise money for it. If you'd like, I could get some of my big music clients involved."

"You'd do that?" he asks. For a moment, he gets excited knowing what a difference Lauren's connections could make, but then he wonders how Isabella would feel about Lauren getting involved. It's probably not a good idea.

"Yes, I would want to do that both to honor Esme's memory, and for the kids. It won't involve us working together or anything. I can deal with Alice."

"I don't know," he replies, shaking his head.

"Will you think about it?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure I will."

"I'll call you to see where things stand in a few days. Are you still living at the same place?" she asks.

He immediately knows she's fishing to see if he's living with Isabella. She always calls everyone on their cell phones. She could reach him no matter where he's living.

"Yeah," he replies. "Same place. That is, when I'm not staying at Isabella's."

He can't help himself, it feels great to say that. He can't even feel bad about the subtle way her expression falls.

In the next moment things get even better. His phone rings and when he lifts it up to look at the screen, he sees that it's Isabella calling.

"Sorry," he says to Lauren. "I need to get this. We'll talk later, okay?"

She nods and turns, but is still within range when he answers his phone with a strong, clear voice.

"Hey, baby, I'm done here. You ready for me?"

..~*~..

"I'm always ready for you," Bella teases. "Are you ready for me?"

He looks back to see Lauren walking away and then he slips into his car. "You bet. Where are you, home?"

"No, Alice and I just got back to the club. We were photographing the kids at the school today."

"How'd that go?" he asks.

"Great. They're so amazing, Edward. What talent!"

"They are, and that's why we're doing this. We can give these kids a chance with music."

"You're a giver, Mr. C. Just one of the many things I love about you."

"So what can I give you?"

"You can take me to this little hole in the wall Korean barbecue for dinner. I think I've convinced Alice and Jasper to come, too."

"I'm on my way."

..~*~..

Bella smiles as Alice is waving her arms dramatically despite the constraints of their booth at the Korean barbecue restaurant. "So then this kid picks up a saxophone and my God, I thought Charlie Parker had risen from the dead," she exclaims, as Edward and Jasper listen intently.

"And Sean just stood there glowing like a proud papa," Bella adds. "I got some great shots of him working with the kids."

"It's all coming together," Jasper comments. "The printer said he could do the posters and postcards Friday if you get him the digital files tomorrow."

"No problem," says Bella. She turns to Edward, excited. "And I talked to Angela today, and her daughter, Carly, wants to be involved. She's a music major at USC and she can earn credits teaching or whatever you need. She's just lovely, Edward, and incredibly talented. One of my favorite people."

"Well, there isn't a higher recommendation," he replies, grinning.

"Isn't she the one you mentioned earlier saying that your son, Jacob, was in love with for years?" Alice asks.

Bella leans her hand into her cheek and sighs. "Honestly, I think he still is. He always asks about her. He tried to see her last time he was in town, but she's still dating that jazz pianist in her class."

"Oh, poor Jacob. Well, maybe one day," Alice responds.

"My hopeless romantic," Jasper says, leaning over and giving Alice a kiss.

"No one would be happier than me if they ended up together. There's nothing worse than watching your kid suffer a broken heart."

_She's such a loving mom, _Edward thinks affectionately. In moments like this, he's reminded of his own mom.

Edward reaches out and takes Bella's hand. She squeezes it back.

.

When the dinner ends and the couples part ways, Bella insists that they stop for ice cream on Larchmont.

"Rocky road!" she yells out.

"This road seems fine to me," Edward teases as he cruises down Third Street.

"Mint chocolate Chip!" she yells a bit louder.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Edward asks. "You yelling flavors at me? What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"Yell flavors back. Jacob and I do this. It's a tradition."

"Vanilla!" Edward yells, laughing.

Bella howls. "Vanilla? Really?"

"What? I like vanilla." Edward scowls.

Bella just shakes her head.

Once they arrive at Baskin-Robbins, he's relieved that she doesn't yell inside the store. Instead she pulls on his arm. "Look Edward, there's a flavor called _Wild and Reckless_!"

"That sounds like your flavor," he comments.

"Mmmm, maybe. I don't know though, it's awfully green."

Edward wanders further down the display case. "Look Isabella, here's one called _Love Potion #31_." He turns and grins at her.

"No!" she says, moving toward him. "Really?"

"I wouldn't tease you about a love potion," Edward says as he tucks her under his arm.

"Oh, that's for me!" she exclaims before turning to the server. "A double scoop of love in a waffle cone for me, and the same for my man." She turns to him as she pulls out her wallet. "It's my treat!"

"But," he protests, pointing to the vanilla tub.

"You only live once, Edward. Time to be wild and reckless and taste some love potion with me."

.

They take their scoops and sit outside watching the neighborhood people walk by.

"So, what do you think?" she asks when he's almost done. She licks her lips and then runs her tongue along her finger where the ice cream melted.

He watches her and immediately has wild and reckless thoughts.

"I'm feeling the love," he says playfully.

"Yeah? Me too. Maybe we should head home soon and put all those feelings to use."

He stand up, pitches his waffle cone in the trash, then reaches out for her hand. "What are we waiting for?"

.

When they get home he's surprised to see clothes all over the bed. Isabella usually keeps her room pretty neat.

"What's all this?"

"I bought some new stuff for the trip, and it inspired me to try on outfits for Italy."

_Oh no…she's an over-packer. _"How much are you taking?" he asks, horrified, finally discovering a quality she shares with Lauren. "We're only going to be there for ten days."

"Don't worry, I'm not taking all of this. I was just having fun."

He pushes a pile over and sits on the edge of the bed. "Why don't you show me what you're thinking about. You know, so we can coordinate."

"Ha! Matchy matchy coordinate? Sure thing! You want a fashion show?"

He stretches out his legs across the duvet and folds his arms behind his head. "Oh yeah. A fashion show." He grins.

She scoops up the clothes in her arms and heads to the bathroom, then closes the door. While he waits he tries to imagine what she's going to come out in. Nothing will surprise him.

The door flings open and she saunters out, prancing back and forth in front of the bed.

He underestimated Isabella. She surprised him all right.

He's dumbstruck at first, then gets his bearings. "The rainbow skirt," he gasps. " You're bringing the rainbow skirt to Italy?"

He's waiting to comment on the striped vest she's wearing on top, with nothing underneath. He's a guy He can only address one fashion issue at a time.

"You like?" She teases and twirls. "Pretty fabulous, right?"

He shakes his head. "You're toying with me, Ms. Isabella."

"Maybe."

"If you wear that outfit, I'm wearing all black every day in protest. Besides, you may scare away Leonard." His eyes light up at the idea of it. "But maybe that isn't a bad thing."

"It's Leo, and where's your sense of adventure?" she asks. "Here, let me show you another outfit."

This time she saunters out in some gauzy flowing pants that look like bad abstract art. Over it is a beaded tunic, cinched with a wide macramé belt, and a dark purple t-shirt underneath.

He laughs as she pulls on a wide-brimmed straw hat.

"Yeah, that's _much_ better."

"I'm glad you like it. It will contrast nicely off your black Johnny Cash look."

He tips his head. "I can work with this with some alterations." He points at her mid-section. "Why don't you try taking off the belt and the hat?"

"So now you're a fashion stylist. Oh, you've got mad skills, Mr. C." She grins and pulls the hat and belt off, letting them fall to the floor.

"Why don't you take those pant things off. I kind of like the tunic thing."

She smiles and pushes off her pants, then twirls for him.

"Mighty fine legs you've got, Isabella."

She juts her hip out and grins. "Thank you, Mr. C."

He squints as he studies her and she notices his legs spread out a bit on the bed. He scratches his chin and gives her a sly smile.

"Hmmm. Why don't you take off the tunic for a minute. I think we can work with that t-shirt you have underneath."

She pulls it off slowly, and as it lifts over her hips, he notices a pair of sexy lace panties he's never seen before.

"Whoa, what's that?" he asks, his eyes growing wider.

"That's what I went shopping for earlier. There is this little lingerie shop that has Italian designs…"

He cuts her off. "Does that little garment have matching parts?" he asks while waving his hand toward her chest.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I think this is an outfit you may really appreciate."

"The shirt…" he says with a deep breath. He motions for the T-shirt to come off.

"So I take it that this is _the_ outfit you'd really like to see?"

He nods and adjusts his jeans. "I want to see."

She slowly eases off the T-shirt, revealing a matching low-cut lace bra in the same deep red. Her full breasts almost spill out as she pulls her top over her head.

"Oh my," Edward groans as he reaches for her. "Come here, baby. I need to see it in more detail."

She crawls toward him from the foot of the bed.

"I like the way you shop," he says in a low voice as he beckons her closer.

"I definitely had you in mind," she says as she straddles him. She reaches down and toys with the opening of his jeans as he traces his fingertips in a slow curve along the soft skin where her bra ends and her breasts begin.

He adeptly pulls her around so that she's underneath him and kisses her slowly as he presses down against her. When she starts to rock her hips, he rises up on his knees and eases his shirt off. He gazes down at the deep red lace as he caresses her hips. "I love these so much, but they've got to go."

Looping his fingers into the sides of her panties, he slowly works them over her hips and down her thighs. "You're so sexy," he says softly as she spreads her legs for him. She sighs when he kisses her neck and eases down one bra strap, then the other. Her back arches when he pulls the cup down and his tongue swirls over her nipple.

"Edward," she groans.

His hot breath burns against her ear, "I want you, Isabella."

"I want you, too." Her eyes flicker with pleasure as he slides his fingers between her legs.

His hands move across her flesh, and his expression softens as he watches her react to his touch. His Isabella…

_He loves her with her rainbow skirt and love potion seduction._

She grins as if she reads his mind. "I know. I love you, too."

When she finally pushes his jeans down and her fingers tighten over him, she smiles and whispers, "I think the love potion worked."

He nods and moans as he watches her hand move up and down his length. "I'm never choosing vanilla again."

.

..~*~..

.

In the early morning hours, Edward watches the room slowly fill with quiet light. Isabella stirs in his arms and he smoothes his hands over her hair and pulls her closer. She shifts even tighter against him, her warmth soothing after all of the months he survived waking up in bed alone.

He breaths her in, stunned to realize that in a matter of weeks she has filled his hollowed out heart. What if he hadn't answered the phone the first time she called late that night? What if he hadn't been brave enough to walk through her front door?

He has learned that love can be a secret tied up in your heart, and when it's released there's an awakening, bright as morning light. Now he doesn't want to miss a moment of this extraordinary woman he holds tenderly in his arms...

…he may never sleep again.

.

.

* * *

_I would definitely go lingerie shopping for Edward. Would you?_

_Thanks so much for reading. I love hearing from you..._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Lots of good stuff on the FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway_


	15. Chapter 15 Smudging

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy._**  
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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Fifteen / Smudging**

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Edward opens the door slowly, and the moment he steps inside he's flooded with memories. Even though his mom set up the music center during his busy high school years, he visited often and the place left a lasting impression on him.

His mom had all the walls painted a warm yellow with colorful art, but now everything is stark white from the previous business. He realizes as he stands there that he's determined to put color back in this place. Closing his eyes, he can almost hear the music echoing from the practice room walls.

There was always a strange blend of the discordant sound of beginners struggling with their instruments mixed with the smooth notes of the experienced players. Being a musician himself, Edward had an understanding and appreciation of what his mom was trying to do. In his hard times, music became his salvation, the salve for his self-inflicted wounds. He imagines that for the kids, many from difficult circumstances, music was not just an escape but a way to prove they could be more than the low expectations people had of them…perhaps even the low expectations they had of themselves.

He wanders over to the room that was Esme's office and leans against the door jamb. He can picture her sitting behind the old desk that used to be in the middle of this room, talking to a parent about their child, her expression animated and encouraging. Esme knew that if she couldn't get a parent on board, it was a hopeless cause, so she worked them as hard as she did the kids.

Every student was welcome into the program as long as they followed their part of the deal: being respectful to the teachers, being respectful to the equipment, and coming a minimum of three times a week for the lesson and practice sessions.

He remembers thinking his mom was too rigid about those rules, but now he knows she was right. Part of the experience was about building character and part learning that if you didn't make a commitment to your music, it would never come to life inside of you.

As he stands in the worn down, gutted space, he worries how incredibly ambitious and possibly foolhardy he is to think he can recreate his mom's vision. He's barely been able to function the last year, how can he possibly be a leader and role model to a group of kids?

As he falters, a memory comes to him, one of Esme at the final concert from the center. She was so weak at that point that she had to be brought in a wheelchair, and she couldn't even last the entire concert, but before it began she gave a passionate, inspiring speech that made almost everyone attending cry. They knew at that point that she only had months or weeks to live, but she rose to the occasion and everyone who attended that night was struck by her passion and dedication to the kids.

That night stood out particularly vividly because it was such a contrast to the reality at home.

Little did everyone know that Esme was in such misery at that point. Whenever they have those Hallmark specials about someone suffering through a disease and dying-yet being brave and wise about life and their purpose in it, Edward wants to throw a brick through the T.V. screen. That sure wasn't his mom.

Esme couldn't tolerate her loss of dignity, and the hopelessness of her prospects. She became angry at the universe. No one was going to do a documentary on her brave struggle and share it with viewers who are drawn to inspirational stories. Even Dad seemed surprised by her fall from grace. Who would have thought that the woman who had so beautifully taken care of her family would resent having to be cared for?

The experience with his mom taught him that you can never know how you will handle a tragedy until you are in the middle of one.

Just as he shakes himself to get refocused on the task at hand, he hears the front door opening.

"Edward?"

The low voice echoes off the empty walls. Edward pulls himself out of his memories and walks to the entrance to greet his old family friend, their contractor, Rodney. He shakes Rodney's hand.

"Hey, Edward. It's been a long time."

"Good to see you, Rodney. It sure has been."

"Probably since I converted your garage into a studio. You and the missus still on McCadden?"

Edward feels his expression fall. "No, Lauren and I are separated-getting a divorce. I live in a loft right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. What with Carlisle and Esme both gone now, you've had a rough time."

Edward shakes his head and remembers how much Carlisle and Esme appreciated Rodney's work. "Yeah, it's been a lousy few years but things are getting back on track now."

"Well, it's sure good to hear from you. I'm really glad to hear you're fixing this place up and making a go of it again. Your mom put her heart and soul into her work here. Your parents would be very proud of you for what you're going to do. "

"Thanks, man."

They walk through the space and go over what repairs and alterations need to be made. The kitchen area needs updating and there are a number of electrical issues. The previous tenant had also torn out some of the soundproofing that will need to be replaced. The list goes on and on. Rodney takes notes and promises to have an estimate before the end of the week.

"What about paint?" he asks before closing his notebook. "Are you keeping it white?"

"No," Edward replies. "I have someone who's going to help me with color. She's also friends with a muralist so we're going to meet tomorrow and make a plan."

"Sounds good," Rodney replies before heading out. "Just let me know."

_Making plans,_ Edward thinks, smiling.

He's finally making plans, and it feels good.

.

..~*~..

.

The next day he's back at the future _Esme's Place_ with Isabella and her friend, Maria. Maria, Leah's girlfriend, is an artist who made a name for herself around town as a talented muralist. She grew up not far from the center, and when she heard of Edward's plans to reopen it she offered her services at a greatly reduced rate.

Bella is bouncing on her toes, her eyes lit up with excitement.

"Wow, Edward! I had no idea this place is so big. It's going to be so grand when we get it fixed up. This is really exciting!"

He smiles at her and steps closer, winding his arm around her waist.

"You really like it?" he asks.

"Oh, yes! Don't you agree, Maria?"

"Yeah, I do. You know my brother used to come here. He learned how to play the bass and was part of a chamber group or something. It was really good for him. Momma said it kept him out of trouble."

Edward smiles. "My mom loved hearing stories like that. Does he still play?"

She shakes her head. "No, but he really got into classical music from that experience. He works at the Walt Disney Concert Hall now and gets to see all the shows. He also got his son into music. He's learning to play the violin."

Bella squeezes Edward, pulling him closer. "Isn't that amazing. Just think, Edward… you're going to be giving that to a new generation of kids."

"I hope so. That's my dream, anyway."

Maria points up to the expansive wall in the large room in the center of the building. "Is this where you want the showpiece mural?"

Edward nods.

"I put some ideas together. Here, let me show you." She opens up a portfolio binder on top of some boxes left behind from the previous tenant. She smoothes the open page and waves her hand over the art with a flourish.

"This one is inspired by a Braque cubist painting." Bella and Edward study the work: a collection of instruments are rendered in black and white and the background behind them is a pattern of various shapes in different colors.

"Oh, I love that!" Bella enthuses.

"Me too," agrees Edward.

Maria lets them study the art for another minute before carefully turning the oversized page. "The second design has a series of silhouettes of kids playing instruments over a swirling background of music notes in every color."

"That's so clever because the kids can imagine that they are the silhouettes, as opposed to the effect if you'd painted actual people."

"Good, that's what I was going for," says Maria.

She flips another page of the portfolio.

"And the final design is a series of long rectangles in different colors that are stacked along side each other. Each one represents a music genre: blues, classical, pop, jazz, country…well, you get the idea."

"I like that from a distance it just looks modern and colorful, but when you get closer, you see all the detail that identifies the genre," observes Bella.

"Exactly. Within each colored rectangle there are monotone outlines of related imagery."

"Oh, wow. They're all great. How will you ever decide, Edward?"

"I like them all, I hate to have to choose. What do you think?"

"Do you have a favorite, Maria?" Bella asks.

"Well, stylistically, I like the first one. But perhaps the second idea is best because like you pointed out it helps the students identify themselves in the art, and it's still expressed in a colorful way."

"I agree," responds Edward. "Maybe that's the best choice. What do you think, Isabella?"

"Yes. I think the second one captures the spirit of the place as you had been describing it to me. This center is about helping young people connect to music in a meaningful way."

"We have a decision," Edward says happily. The best part is that he's reminded that he isn't alone in making this project a reality. He has help and support, most notably with Isabella.

.

Maria takes measurements, photos, and makes some notes before heading out for another client meeting in Pasadena.

"Wow!" says Edward to Bella, after they walk Maria out to her car. "You really know the right people."

"She's great, isn't she? She's so talented and easy to work with, too. She did a jungle room for one of my friend's kids and it's still the hit of the neighborhood."

Edward takes a few strides toward the back of the building as he reaches out for her. "Come on, let me show you around some more."

They move through a number of lesson rooms and larger open spaces. "These are going to need new carpet," Edward comments.

"You know, I was also thinking that it would be good to replace the floor in the main room, too. There are some great retro linoleum tiles in cool colors and they're really durable."

"Will you take me where you saw the tile and help me pick it out?" Edward asks.

"Sure. We should do it as soon as we get back from Italy. They may take a while to get once you place your order."

He pulls her into a tight hug and doesn't let go, just gently rocks her. Bella can tell he's overwhelmed.

"What?" she asks gently.

"Your desire to help me is so pure, so selfless. You don't have any agenda. God, I love that about you."

"Well of course, why would I have an agenda? I just want to support you and it's gratifying that it's something so worthwhile."

Edward looks over his shoulder. "Hey, there used to be a sitting area out behind the building. Can we see if it's there still so we can talk for a minute?"

Bella nods and she follows him out back. They find a couple of worn out benches and a picnic table surrounded by overgrowth and weeds.

"It's kind of filthy," Edward comments.

"Oh, I don't care about that." Bella takes some Kleenex out of her bag and brushes off the worst of the mess to clear a place for them to sit. "What's up?"

"Remember how I told you that Lauren followed me out to my car after the meeting with the lawyers a couple of days ago?"

Bella nods, trying to look interested, but not _too_ interested. "You said that you let her know you didn't want to have dinner again to talk about your past…that you were ready to move on."

Edward takes her hand. "And I told her that I was involved with you now."

She smiles at him. "Yeah, that was my favorite part."

"There was one thing I forgot about when I told you about it, but being here today reminded me. Lauren saw some stuff on Facebook about my opening the center again and the fundraiser that's happening, and she offered to help get some of her big music connections involved."

Bella's expression stays fairly neutral, but Edward suspects she must have complicated feelings brewing under her calm exterior.

"Oh, I see," she finally says.

"I told her I didn't think it was a good idea, but then she told me she could work directly with Alice and not deal with me at all."

"Do you believe it would go like that?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Probably yes for the fundraiser event, but if they provide continued support it could get complicated."

Bella twists on a strand of hair as she thinks. "But how can you turn down that kind of potential help? Serious supporters could help sustain the project long term."

"You're right, I can't help but see potential in that," Edward agrees. "You should know also that she provided that same kind of help for mom, and that was before she was as powerfully connected as she is now. Lauren always loved this place."

Bella considers his words. "So she had a history here, too, an emotional investment?"

"Yes." Edward nods.

Bella doesn't even hesitate with her response. "Then I think you should accept her help and let her work with Alice; see how it goes."

"I don't know…"

"Just follow your instincts, Edward," she says encouragingly.

He bristles. "Like those have been so good the last few years."

"Your instincts led you to me. You showed up at my house, after all." She grins.

"That they did." He smiles and leans over to kiss her.

"So what's the next step?"

"I have to meet with the lawyers and accountants again to tighten up the business plan. Also, when we get back, there'll be some rehearsals for the event."

"How do you think it'll be, being up on the stage again?"

"Strange. You know what though? If I get nervous, I'm going to close my eyes and imagine that I'm in your backyard. And when I open my eyes, you'll be all that I see."

She takes his hand in hers. "There you go, making me swoon again."

.

As they walk through the building locking up and shutting off lights, Edward shakes his head. "I wish you could have seen the center before, during its heyday when it was alive and buzzing. It was really cool."

He notices one of the doors is broken when he goes to close it and scowls. "It's depressing seeing it like this. It feels all wrong."

Bella perks up. "I have an idea. Have you ever heard of smudging?"

Edward shakes his head. "No, what's that?"

"My friend Cheri is very spiritual and performs an old Native American tradition where she burns a smudge stick. It's when you want to rid a place of lingering negative energy. She smudged my photo studio after that upsetting experience I had with that couple."

"That sounds pretty out there, Isabella. What if this smudging stuff sets fire to the studio? I'm sure the insurance company would love that explanation. _Oh, we had to get rid of the negative energy…_"

"No, it's not like that." Bella laughs. "You make it sound like she'd set a bonfire in the lobby."

"What does she do then?"

"She has a bundle of dried stuff, herbs like sage and other stuff tied together, and by the time she walks through the place waving it and saying prayers, it's smoking, not burning."

"Does it smell good at least?"

She laughs. "Not really." She looks over just as he makes a face. "Ah come on, Mr. C., open your mind. What's the worst that can happen?"

"A stinky studio?" He grins.

She shakes her head at him with mock indignation.

"You know what?" he asks. "I'm so full of lingering bad energy that maybe you should smudge me, too. I'm hoping once this center is thriving that _Esme's Place_ will help me keep the best part of my memories of my mom alive, not the sad ones that linger from her miserable last months."

Bella's eyes light up. "Huh…smudge you? I think I know just the thing."

"Are you going to set me on fire, Isabella, and then watch me smoke?"

"I believe I've already set you on fire. Maybe cooling you off is what you need," she teases as she leans into him.

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. "I'm in your capable hands. Go ahead, smudge me, cleanse me, whatever turns you on, as long as you work your magic on me."

.

..~*~..

.

That evening Bella speeds them down the 405 with all the windows down, her hair whipping around in a crazed frenzy. Edward leans back in his seat, resting his elbow on the open window frame. He loves the feeling of surrendering to Isabella. All the way though their dinner she refused to tell him what she had up her sleeve. From the looks of it, he'll soon find out but he can't resist teasing her first.

"Are we going to Disneyland?"

"Nope."

"Tijuana?" he asks playfully.

"Ha! No."

"Smudges Are Us?"

She reaches over and pushes him in the shoulder. "Enough with the guessing." She steers the car into the off ramp. "Besides, we're almost there."

He hadn't paid too much attention while they were driving, but now he starts getting the sense that he's been around here before. When she pulls up and parks next to the Green Store, it all hits him.

_Hermosa Beach…Bella's special place_

"Are we going for a swing?" he asks as she shuts off the ignition. "Cause you have a swing in your front yard, just saying. We could've stayed at home."

"Nope, no swinging tonight," she says as she opens her car door.

She gets out and walks to the back of the car and pops the trunk. She takes a pile of beach towels out and closes it again.

Marching forward, she calls out to him without turning back.

"Come on, Mr. Curious, follow me."

He silently follows her across the sand hoping she'll drop the towels at any minute and unpack a bottle of massage oil, or some of her home baked cookies at the very least.

But to his horror, Isabella keeps marching…all the way to the damn shore, where she drops the towels, slides off her sweater and drops it as well.

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes," she says, beckoning him over.

"You mean to tell me that you're going swimming in the ocean…at night…in the dark?"

She curls her index finger up at him and nods. "And you're coming with me."

He shakes his head vehemently. "I don't think so. Who knows what the hell is lurking in these dark, creepy waters at night. Haven't you read mythology about the sea or watched _Jaws_, woman?"

"Quit being such a baby," she says as she walks up to him and starts to unbutton his shirt.

"You think I'm being a baby because I don't want to become some shark's main course tonight?"

"There are no sharks here. Some mermaids perhaps, but no sharks."

"I think you're the mermaid," he says as she pulls his shirt off his shoulders. She looks past him and scans the deserted beach before undoing his jeans and pushing them down."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" he asks. "Did you at least bring us swimsuits?"

"No, we won't need those."

"Why does that not surprise me?" he says more to himself than her. "You know there are scary people lingering on the beach at night."

She ignores him.

He watches her pull off her T-shirt and denim skirt. "We're going to freeze, Isabella," he implores.

"We won't freeze. It's such a warm night tonight. Besides, we can always keep each other warm," she says, running her fingertips along his arm.

She turns him until his shoulders are square to the edge of the shore. "Okay, now close your eyes."

"You want to make this even more disturbing than it already is?" he asks, wide-eyed.

"It's not disturbing. It's exhilarating…mysterious. It's you and me being cleansed in the ocean, to emerge from God's swimming pool reborn," she pronounces dramatically.

"Oh, for God's sakes," he grumbles.

"Close your eyes!" she demands.

He snaps them closed. "Yes, Ma'am!"

He feels her walk away but a moment later he senses her in front of him again.

"Edward, repeat after me…_I'm letting go of all my old negative memories and disappointments. From this day forward, I'm a new man_."

He feels ridiculous while he repeats her words. He's also puzzled when he feels her press her wet fingers on his forehead, his temples, and over his heart.

"What's that?" he whispers. "Why are your fingers wet?"

"Shhh. Ocean water. The cleanse has begun."

He rolls his eyes, but since they're closed she doesn't notice.

"Now say, _I have no fear. I trust the universe will take care of me_."

He feels her make brushing motions off his shoulders as he repeats the line.

He peeks at her just as she pushes the open palm of her hand against his forehead.

"Bad spirits come out," she pronounces, like one of those TV _Evangelical_ healers. He looks down at her and laughs, and she starts to laugh, too.

But then she focuses and takes his hands. "_I am full of positive energy now, and I will move forward knowing that I am powerful and in control of my life_."

"Yeah, even if I'm not in control of my woman," he says under his breath at the end of the line.

She throws her hands up in the air. "Okay! Here we go!"

Next thing he knows she's peeling off her bra and panties and rushing into the water. He shakes his head, but pushes his boxers off, and comes in after her.

When he gets close enough, he lunges for her and they both collapse into the water in a tumble of limbs. The water is shocking, a brisk slap in the face as they fight to resurface and take a breath. They both rise out of the water sputtering, laughing.

"Oh my!" she exclaims.

"Oh my is right. Damn, woman, it's cold and friggin dark. How are you sure that some creature isn't going to rise up and come after us any second?"

She splashes him playfully, then dives back under. As much as he appreciates the view as her moonlit-body curves over, then dives into the water, he wishes she would stay by his side. She's under a long time until she pops up and smiles at him.

"So you_ are_ a mermaid," he says, smirking.

"You had to find out eventually," she says solemnly.

They tread water around each other until she convinces him to take her hand and go under. The sensation is startling, the weight of silence contrasted with the cry of every nerve awakened by the brisk tide. He finally relaxes into it and allows himself to sink with her into the black water, as they have their magic moment in the undersea world.

After a few minutes and many submerges, he senses that she's satisfied. "So am I cleansed now, or smudged or whatever?" he asks as he pulls her into his arms.

"Yup, you're all cleaned up and ready to go."

"So where you'd learn that ceremony?"

"I made it up, silly, from bits of things I've seen and experienced myself. Did you like it?"

"You made that stuff up?"

"Yeah, I'm amazing aren't I?" she teases.

He shakes his head. "What am I going to do with you?'

He grabs her and kisses her passionately as the water swirls around them. She feels so perfect-wet and slippery in his arms. As he fights the water to hold onto her, he wonders if he had lived at all before he met Isabella. She's his new beginning and in his deepest hope, his always, too.

When a strong undercurrent pulls them apart he takes a step forward and motions dramatically to the star-filled sky.

"As long as we're at this, I think there's something I want to tell the universe."

"Good, good. Go ahead," she encourages. "Just lift your face to the heavens and speak your truth."

He looks up at the moon, as bright and shiny as a new quarter in a child's hand. He thinks of his mom and dad and their dreams for their two children. He thinks about how sometimes dreams do come true.

He looks over at Isabella. His mermaid smiles lovingly at him, her arms slowly gliding back and forth across the water's surface as she waits.

"Are you listening, Universe?" he yells into the darkness, a man inspired.

"I just thought you should know…I'm in love with Isabella Swan!"

.

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* * *

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_Thanks so much for reading. I love hearing from you..._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Lots of good stuff on the FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway_


	16. Chapter 16 Her Infinity Pool

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

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_

* * *

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Sixteen / Her Infinity Pool**

.

With their damp beach towels draped over their shoulders, Bella and Edward walk hand in hand across the sand. The night air is brisk, and now chilled from their ocean swim, they lean in to each other and hurry toward where they parked. Once inside the car, Edward reaches for the dashboard and switches on the heat as Bella turns them around to head to the freeway.

Both deep in thought, they fall into a comfortable silence as she drives. He turns to study her and her endlessly fascinating expressions. With her eyes never leaving the road, she suddenly breaks out with a huge grin.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"Your declaration when we were in the water," she responds. "It was quite spectacular."

"I meant it," he replies.

"I could tell," she says happily. "The best part is that it was rather out of character for you."

"Yeah, I usually don't yell at the sky. You just bring these things out in me."

"Mmmm. I suppose I do," she says.

"What do you want me to bring out of you?" Edward asks.

She considers his question.

"Bring _out_ of me? It's more the opposite. I'd always had this dream of a man like you who'd seep into me like a transfusion."

"That's very dramatic, Isabella," he responds playfully. "I can't decide if that's romantic or good material for therapy."

"Maybe both," she agrees. "You know I don't do anything half-way."

He nods, agreeing.

"You know those men, the ones at gas stations who even after the car is full of fuel keep clicking the pump to top it? Just a bit more…just a bit more still. That's what I've always wanted. I'm sure of it," she says, a faraway look in her eyes.

"An obsessive compulsive man at a gas station?" he teases, laughing softly.

"No, a man who wants to fill me to the brim with his love, and then keeps topping it off just to make sure I'm completely saturated with him."

"So, someone like me," he states with bravado.

She grins and nods. "Your essence has seeped into every part of me. Tonight I felt like you had stuck your nozzle in me and just kept filling me up with all your love."

He leans forward, coughing and sputtering. "Stuck my nozzle in you? You didn't just say that?"

"Oh, yes I did!"

"I like it when you talk dirty to me. When we get home, how about if I fill you up again. You know…not metaphorically."

"Hmmm," she moans softly, then gives him a sexy smile.

When he looks over, he notices the speedometer is hovering in the 80's.

"You're driving pretty fast," he says softly, resting his hand on her thigh.

"Yeah, I'm kind of in a hurry to get home."

He squints his eyes and as the cityscape blurs by their windows, he imagines slowly undressing her in the silver light of her bedroom and lifting her onto the bed.

He feels the heat start to burn from his center. Taking a deep breath, his hand tightens over her thigh.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

.

.

As they take the freeway off-ramp and drive toward her house, Bella thinks about Edward holding her in the ocean, his strong arms protective, as if he would fight off any sea creature to make sure she was safe. She wanted to make love to him in the water, but he was too apprehensive. Now as they open her front door and he pulls her to the bedroom, she knows what's in store for her will be more than worth the wait.

.

Stretched naked across the bed, she holds her breath as he crawls over her. His eyes appraise her hungrily, every muscle across his chest and shoulders tight with anticipation. His intoxicating desire, evidenced by his arousal heavy against her thigh, makes her not just feel wanted, but chosen, too.

When she licks his skin he has a subtle salty taste from their ocean swim. It makes her think of them moving toward each other in the dark, mysterious waters.

Her tongue circles over his nipple and across his chest as he moans and watches.

"Isabella," he whispers.

His hands stroke her thighs, gradually spreading her open. When he finally eases deeply into her, he's glad his mermaid Isabella has legs to tightly wrap around him, pulling him closer in.

Every movement between them is fluid and buoyant, her bed the ocean, the cool sheets rippling around them as they make passionate love.

.

..~*~..

.

As morning breaks they'd like nothing better than to linger in each other's arms, but Edward has an early meeting with the contractor so they force themselves out of bed. After he leaves, Bella knows she has bills to pay and errands to run before their trip to Italy, but she can't seem to help herself…she's overwhelmed with the need to create, to express visually all the emotions that are bubbling inside of her.

She heads to the studio and opens up her computer to do some research. Within moments, Google presents her with countless images of mermaids. As she excitedly scans through frame after frame, she finally finds what's she's looking for. She clicks on the rectangle and when it opens up and the colors fill her screen, she leans forward and sighs. _Oh my God, this painting!_ She's captivated by the way the male figure holds and gazes at his mermaid. It's her and Edward. The gesture and expression are so romantic and sensual that it makes her heart pound.

She studies the image carefully and begins to imagine the design she wants to incorporate for the collage. She goes to work drawing, tearing, and layering as time passes with no regard-it's just Bella and Edward magically connected under the sea.

She does the final assemblage on the textured watercolor paper, and the muted, watery tones give just the effect she was hoping for. She takes a quill pen and in sepia ink, writes a series of words in fanciful lettering all around the edges of her underwater creation.

When it feels done she sits back to admire the work. It's so transcendent she almost doesn't want to insert it in the journal. She's tempted to frame it and put it somewhere significant, perhaps right next to her bed so it's the last thing she looks at before she drifts off to sleep.

As she holds the mermaid art tenderly in her hands, she thinks about love, and being so full of happiness that it spills over like an infinity pool. There are no edges or endings, just all the possibilities beyond where she can see.

.

..~*~..

.

Half past noon and done with her art journaling, she's about to head to the darkroom when her phone prompt goes off. She sees that it's a text from Michael.

_What are you doing? _he asks.

_About to go into the darkroom. What's up?_

_I'm in your neighborhood and thought I'd stop at Henry's. You craving tacos?_

He knows her answer before she types it in. Bella has never been known to turn down a good taco, and Henry's are great_._

_Oooo I'll put off work for Henry's any day. Can you get me the usual?_

_Sure, I'll be there in fifteen._

.

Michael lets himself in and finds Bella at her kitchen desk going through some proofs. He sets the bags on the kitchen table and opens them up.

"Hey, you," Bella says happily. She gets up to hug him. "I love it when you bring me tacos. How've you been?"

"I'm good, but things have been pretty boring with all the corporate tax stuff so I thought I needed my Bella fix."

She squeezes his shoulders and smiles. "That's what I'm here for."

While she pulls plates out of the cupboards and unwraps the tacos, Michael steps over to the desk and looks down at the stack of proof sheets. He holds one up and studies it carefully.

"Is this that music guy?"

Bella nods. "Yes, that's Edward."

"You did a session with him?"

"Uh huh," she answers, distracted.

"You did charge him, didn't you?"

"No, if you must know I didn't charge him, Mr. Accountant."

He scowls. "Why not? Does he understand that this is your business, Bella?"

"Michael, he's my boyfriend," she says softly, watching for his reaction.

He can't hide his surprise. "Your boyfriend? You're sleeping with this guy? He's a married man."

"God, you sound like Leah. I wish my friends could trust me and just be happy for me. It's not what you think. He's been separated from his wife for months and they're getting a divorce."

"But…"

"I'm in love with him, Michael."

He turns away from her and she can feel his hurt even if he tries to hide it. This is the first time she's gotten serious about anyone since they broke up. Maybe he's not ready to share her. Maybe he isn't completely over her. He once told her that he never would be.

She steps up behind him and rests her chin on his shoulder. "What?"

"You're really in love with him?"

"Yes," she says quietly. "Why are you being this way? We've been friends now for a long time. I didn't get weird when you got involved with Ciara."

"I wasn't in love with her,"he says as he leans on the edge of the kitchen counter. "Look, I know I'm not the guy for you, Bella. But this guy-this Edward, I just don't trust him."

She takes a step back. "Why?"

He points to the photos. "You've hired him to play for you and now you're shooting his pictures. What next?"

She folds her arms over her chest. "Seriously? You think he's after my money or something? Do you really think I'm that undesirable? I'll have you know he has a lot more money than I do."

"He does?"

She nods defiantly. "Yes. As a matter of fact, he's the one taking me to Italy. He wants to pay for everything, even though I insisted otherwise."

"Let him pay then. If he's sleeping with you it's the least he can do."

"What the hell does that mean, Michael?"

He shrugs, frustrated. "You're amazing, Bella. I meant it as a compliment."

Her face is red and she can feel the steam rising off of her in waves. "You're making it sound like I'm a prostitute or something. What the hell? Would you like it if I talked to you that way?"

They have a stand-off for a minute where they both glare at each other, but eventually he surrenders.

He raises up his hands in defeat. "Oh please, will you calm down. I'm jealous…all right. I'm just jealous of the guy. I wish it were me. No woman I've been with since you has even come close to measuring up to you, and that's the truth, Bella."

"Really?" She asks, taken aback.

"Yes, really," he says, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"I'm surprised. You never told me that before," she says.

"You know I'm not vocal about that stuff. I've never been very demonstrative. But yes, you're passionate and absolutely amazing. I'd be happy to explain why in greater detail if we can date again." He turns around to face her and grins playfully like the Cheshire Cat.

"As tempting as that wildly romantic offer is," she teases. "I'll have to pass. I'm a one-man woman, Michael."

"I know," he admits grumpily.

"But I'll happily eat tacos with you."

He shrugs. "I guess I'll take what I can get. Come on, let's eat."

.

..~*~..

.

Bella keeps her cell phone with her in the darkroom, hoping Edward will call so they can plan their evening.

Printing pictures of her man is enormously distracting. She keeps losing track of how long the print is in the developer bath because she gets lost in his soulful expression. The whole exercise only reminds her how gorgeous he is.

When the phone rings, she's startled, then thrilled when she sees on her screen that it's him.

"Isabella," he says happily when she answers. "I can't wait to see you."

She blushes and has butterflies like she did when her first crush passed her a note in class asking to meet after school.

"I can't wait to see you, too," she admits. "I'm printing these pictures of you and I swoon every time your image develops in my tray."

He sighs into the phone. "I feel like a kid again. We're a pair."

"Yes, we are."

"So, what would you like for dinner tonight? Shall we go out before I play for you?"

"Why don't I throw a meal together? I just want something light, but I can grill for you."

"Did you eat a big lunch or something? You know you'll need your energy since I'm coming over tonight," he teases.

"Oh my. I'll be just fine, Michael dropped by with my favorite tacos at lunch time and I ate three of them!"

"Why'd he come by?" Edward asks, trying not to make his jealousy too obvious. "Does he always bring food when he comes to work on your books?"

"No, he didn't come to work. He just wanted to hang out."

"Should I be jealous?" he asks. ""I'm not sure how I feel about _old_ boyfriends dropping by and feeding you."

"Funny you ask that. He actually admitted he's jealous of you."

"Is that so? And how did that come up?"

"I told him that you're my _new_ boyfriend and that I'm in love with you."

Edward grins into the phone. "So he didn't take that well?"

"Not really."

"See! I knew he still had a thing for you."

"Yes, but you're the one I want. If you were here now…"

"What?"

"I would hold you and kiss you in the dim red light of the darkroom."

"Oh, Isabella," he groans. "I have another meeting soon. Don't get me worked up."

"I'm sorry," she says demurely.

There's a long pause and all she can hear is his deep breaths.

"What are you wearing?"

She smiles and closes her eyes. "You know that short skirt you like?"

"The navy one that's really soft?"

"Yeah, that one. It's easy to push up my thighs, you know."

"Are you wearing panties?"

"Do you want me to be?"

She hears a frustrated sigh.

"Oh, Isabella…what you're doing to me. I wish I could come over now."

"Me too."

"Sometime will you let me play with you in your darkroom?"

She laughs softly. "Play?"

"I want to stand close behind you as you work."

"That sounds so distracting, but in the best way."

"Oh, I'll distract you all right."

Bella rests her palms on the table to steady herself. She can almost feel his powerful presence as if he were there.

"And this darkroom visit, will it just be work, Mr. C?"

"No, baby, I assure you it won't."

.

When they're finally forced to end their call, Bella has to step out of the darkroom to refocus. She sits in the swing and marvels at this new love that's so full of passion. She's lived long enough to understand that this stage of a relationship-this kind of desperate wanting, usually doesn't last long, but right now that doesn't matter. She's determined to enjoy every moment of this time with this man who takes her breath away.

.

That evening when Edward arrives she already has the grill fired up. Before opening a bottle of wine, he steps close to Bella and glides his hand down her back until it rests at her waist.

"Missed me?" he asks.

She turns to him and smiles before kissing him. "You know I did."

"Are you done in the darkroom or should we see what develops after dinner?"

"Did you just make a pun, Mr. C?"

"I believe I did. But seriously, will you show me how you print sometime?"

"Maybe," she teases.

He pulls her tight against him.

"How about when we're done out here with dinner and music, you take me in your darkroom for some friendly instructions?" He gives her a sly smile.

"I can turn on the red safelight if you'd like," she offers with a wink.

"Yeah. That sounds hot, very film noir. Red light it is."

.

After they're done eating, he settles on the swing and pats the cushion so that she'll sit next to him.

"I want to play you something."

"But you always play me something," she points out, confused, as she settles onto the cushions.

"Something special," he says softly. "I'm writing a song for you that I'm going to perform at the benefit."

"No. Really?"

"Yes. I don't want you to hear the words yet, but would you like to hear the melody?"

"Oh yes!" she says, sitting forward excitedly.

He starts to strum his guitar, his fingers moving across the strings. She hears so many emotions in this music. In the beginning there's almost a sad loneliness, then the tempo and mood begins to pick up until her heart is lifted with the sound of it. She listens enraptured at all that this man has been holding inside.

He plays with his eyes closed, appearing to feel every note, and when he finally opens them again, he looks at her lovingly. She takes a deep breath and wonders how she got so lucky to have someone like him in her life.

"You composed that just for me?" she asks when he finishes and sets his guitar down.

He nods and smiles at her, reaching over and taking her hand. "Do you like it so far?"

"I love it so much. I didn't know you still wrote original stuff and then you go and create something so beautiful, just like that."

"Well, I haven't written for a long time," he admits. "This is the first time I've wanted to in years. I wanted to give you something special, Isabella. Something from me to you."

She leans over and kisses him softly, then pulls back just far enough so that they're eye to eye. "Thank you, Edward. I can't wait to hear the finished piece, with the words, too."

"Yeah," he agrees.

Something suddenly occurs to her and she grins widely.

"What?" he asks.

"I have something for you, too." She lets go of his hand and stands up. "Let me go get it."

He watches her slip into the studio and a minute later steps back out with something in her hands. She sits down close to him and opens up the folder in her lap, then pulls out a set of prints.

He looks down and sees a black and white still from the shoot Isabella did of him.

"Well, look at that," he says, holding up the print so that it catches the light from the nearby lantern. "That's not half bad."

"Gee. thanks," she teases.

He slides his arm around her and squeezes her closer. "Oh, stop. I mean, wow; the photography is amazing. You've made me look a million times better looking than I actually am."

"No I didn't," she insists. "This is exactly how I see you. You're so handsome, Edward." She slides the top picture to the bottom of the pile so he can see the next print.

"But I'm getting old. You really think I'm still handsome?"

"So handsome. Here, look at this one." She pulls out another print and holds it up. "Damn, the look in your eyes! I kept messing this one up in the darkroom I got so lost in it."

"That look is all for you. It's only for you, Isabella."'

She sighs as he kisses her shoulder and runs his fingertips up her arms.

"You bring all of this out of me. I know this sounds cliché or something, but you make me feel like a man again."

"That's not cliché," she insists. "Here, look at this one that shows more of your body. Mmmm, all man for sure. I'm going to make a print of this for my bedroom."

"Wouldn't you rather just have the real thing in your bedroom?" he asks as his fingers feather up and down the inside of her wrist.

She shivers and presses her thighs together. "I'm greedy, Mr. C. I want both in my bedroom."

"Well, thank you for the amazing photos." He starts to close the folder. "You sure made a lot of prints."

"Are you kidding? I wanted to make a print of every frame, but I ran out of paper. I'm going to go to the photo store to buy more."

"Hey, that reminds me. Please let me pay you for the shoot," Edward says.

"Are you kidding? Absolutely not," she insists.

"This is your business, Isabella. I don't want to take advantage of your good graces. I'm not going to argue with you about it. I'm sending a check tomorrow."

"I won't cash it," she says stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Woman, you can be so bull-headed. Listen, why don't you at least let me pay for the supplies?"

She shakes her head firmly. "No."

"A box of paper?"

"No."

"I'm just going to go buy the stuff then and leave it on your doorstep, and what do you bet I'll get the wrong stuff."

"Who's being bull-headed now? I'll tell you what…" She reaches over and pats the pocket area of his jeans. "How much cash do you have on you?"

"Not a lot. I ran errands today, so I need to go to the cash machine again." He reaches into the pocket she patted. "See, here's the change from the car wash."

She takes the bills that are bunched up and smoothes them out. "Seven dollars. That works for me."

"Oh, really?" he asks with eyebrows arched. "Cause there's more where that came from." He stands up and fishes through his other pocket. He grins as he pulls his hand back out with more money. "Here's more."

She unfolds three twenties and a ten. "Okay. This will do just fine. You can put it in my mad money jar and we'll use it for dinner and a great bottle of wine or something in Italy."

"You have a mad money jar?"

"Yeah, that teal one on the mantle that I first paid you from. Sometimes if a couple pays me in cash for the shoot I put the money in there and then spend it on something fun. It makes the accountant in Michael absolutely crazy."

"I bet."

"So why don't you go deposit your payment in there, and I'll bring in the glasses. Then after that we can go have our lesson in the darkroom." She winks at him.

"It's a deal," he replies. "I'm going to put whatever money is in my pockets in, including the change, and I don't want any argument about it later."

She laughs. "Yes, sir." She stands and tucks the folder under her arm then picks up the glasses.

Edward walks ahead of her and opens the door to let her in. While she heads to the kitchen, he makes his way into the living room.

.

As he approaches the mantle he digs deep into his pockets. He drops the bills into the squat vase first and then empties his change with a clatter. His aim's off though, and several coins miss the rim and roll off onto the mantel.

"Aren't you done yet?" Bella calls from the family room.

"Almost," he yells back. "I've got a lot of change!"

He picks up the stray coins and notices that several have disappeared behind the collection of small picture frames, other vases and figurines. Edward starts moving things around to collect the last few coins. He shifts a picture frame to the side to find one particularly dodgy quarter and when he does, he notices a prescription pill bottle tucked just behind it. Curious, he takes it in his hand.

"Oh, will you forget the change," Bella says as she enters the room. But when she sees his hand on the pill bottle, her expression drops suddenly.

"What are you doing? What are you doing with that?" Her voice sounds panicked and it startles him.

He looks at her, confused. "I aimed poorly and some of the change rolled behind this stuff. I was just looking for it to get it into the jar."

In her expression it's clear that something's terribly wrong.

"What's the matter, Isabella?"

She takes a step closer and reaches her hand up.

"Can you give that to me, please?"

A foreboding surges through him, like a stone has just dropped into his stomach. Every part of him feels heavy and dark. His fingers instinctively tighten over the bottle as he pulls it in closer.

"Please, Edward. Please just give it to me. Don't look at it. Just give it to me."

He draws his clenched fist to his chest.

She steps closer.

"Now, please."

He looks at her and in that moment they both know the truth-that he will indeed look, and with that decision the tides of their ocean may shift irrevocably.

He hears a faint cry as he holds the bottle to the light and his fingers shift so that the label's revealed. There's a large hand-written message written across its face.

_If you can't remember what this is for take the entire contents immediately._

It takes a single moment for his mind to compute the weight of these words.

…_if you can't remember..._

Her future, their future…could all be taken away with what he holds in his hands. His fingers grasp the bottle with such force he's surprised it doesn't shatter.

He looks back at his Isabella with disbelief, and then like the stage lights in an empty theater after the most spectacular show, every light in his heart goes out, one at a time.

.

.

.

* * *

_*deep sigh* trust me  
_

_and talk to me...there's a lot to discuss up ahead...  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_The mermaid painting and other good stuff is on the FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway_


	17. Chapter 17 The Exit Strategy

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_**  
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* * *

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Seventeen / The Exit Strategy**

.

"That belongs to me. You need to give it to me," Bella says with a steely voice.

Her hand reaches out further for the bottle of pills; there's a look of extreme frustration on her face.

"We need to talk about this, Isabella."

"No we don't. This doesn't concern you. You don't know anything about this, and you don't need to, either."

His expression falls and he takes a step back.

"Doesn't concern me? How can you say that? I thought we were in a relationship here. Everything about you concerns me."

He almost doesn't recognize her. She has an intense, focused look like a warrior about to go into battle.

"This has nothing to do with you, or even Jacob, or anyone," she says in a firm voice. "This belongs to me, and me alone."

_Is this the same woman I held just minutes ago? _

He shakes his head. "I don't accept that. I can't accept that."

"You're going to have to. You really don't have a choice," she says.

_To hell with that,_ he thinks, angry. _I always have a choice._

"Isabella, why are you being cavalier with me? You're pushing me away, like how I feel about something so significant doesn't mean anything to you. When Jacob and I talked about you…"

He realizes his misstep as soon as the words leave his mouth and he stops mid-sentence. He stands frozen, watching her face get flushed as she realizes the implications of what he said.

"Wait a minute, " she responds, each word louder than the last. Her eyes get wide with disbelief and her jaw tightens. "What do you mean _when you and Jacob talked about me_?"

"We talked several weeks ago."

He notices her fists clenching. "What? You talked to my son about me and didn't tell me?"

"It was that night you were so upset, and I found you on the darkroom floor. I couldn't understand you saying you'd never get old and end up with someone you loved…I called Jacob that night to try to get help or some understanding about what might have set you off like that. Don't you realize how much that completely freaked me out?"

"Exactly," she says, exasperated. "If _that_ freaked you out, what makes you think you can handle things one day if they get much worse? Furthermore, I'm going to strangle my son for giving you my personal information. I'm calling him as soon as we're done here."

_Done here?_

He takes another step back and turns the bottle slowly in his hands as he stares at it. He swallows hard and tries to find his voice. "So I'm assuming then that you've done the genetic testing. That you have your answer about the Alzheimer's."

"You assume? You assume?"

She shakes her head violently. "You don't know anything."

He never thought her voice could sound this dark. It's disorienting seeing her like this. Surely this angry woman with the furious expression isn't his Isabella.

He knows he has to reach her somehow, so he takes a deep breath and tries to refocus.

"I know that I love you. Now I also know that from this moment forward, I will live in fear that I'll come over one day and find you dead."

She looks stunned and then tips her head down. "That'll never happen."

"How can I know that? What if you have a horrible couple of days…a horrible week? It happens. You were pretty bad that night in the studio. Do you even know what your limit is?"

She glares at him as he continues on.

"I remember my mom starting to forget everything when she was going through menopause. She got so depressed and acted out in different ways. You can't convince me not to worry about that. What if you start experiencing the normal memory loss that comes with aging and menopause, but you assume the worse?"

She turns and walks to the window. "What I meant was that it won't happen because I wouldn't do it here. You won't find me if I do it."

His morbid curiosity chimes in. "Why, where will you be?"

"I'll be fish food."

"What?" he asks, horrified, not sure what she means until he remembers a comment she made the first night she took him to Hermosa Beach.

"I'll walk into the ocean and swim toward the horizon. You'll never hear of me again."

He fights the urge to throw the pill bottle against the wall.

Shaking his head, he presses his fist on the edge of the mantle. "Listen, I know you can be colorful and dramatic, but this is pissing me off. What in the hell does that mean, Isabella—you're going to swim into the horizon and disappear? Can you quit messing with me?"

"Really?" she responds. "You're getting pissed off? You-the man who called my son and talked about the odds for my future so he could decide if I was worth gambling on or not."

"What?"

"You heard me." Her voice is angry, but her expression says something else entirely. He sees the hurt cracking through her mask of rage.

"Is that what you think? That I've tried to decide if you're worth gambling on, like a poker game or something?"

"Yes, I do," she says.

"Well you're wrong. And you should feel lousy for even accusing me of that. When I learned about what you could be facing and I processed what that meant, I thought about it…what I could handle, if I'd be able to stay by your side..."

She stands silently, watching him wide-eyed, the blood pounding in her head.

"And I knew in my heart I loved you too much to not stay with you, by your side, no matter what happens. But tonight I've learned that you aren't willing to stay by mine."

She curls over like he punched her in the stomach and he hears a broken sob. Moments later, she lifts her face up and there are tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You have no idea, Edward," she says.

"No idea of what? You know that I took care of my dad through his illness."

"With all due respect, did you change his diapers and spoon feed him until he couldn't remember how to swallow? Did you bandage up your heart so it wouldn't break apart when he no longer knew who you were?"

"Isabella…" His insides ache at the thought of it.

"I'm not taking away from the pain you went through watching your dad deteriorate and die, but it's much different when someone loses their mind, their very essence. When you can't even have a lucid conversation with them anymore."

He drops down into the nearby chair and twists his hands as he thinks.

"I can't bear the idea of ending up like that, Edward. This is my insurance plan that I won't. A wise friend of mine once told me that it's always good to have an exit strategy."

"Does Jacob know about the exit strategy?"

"No. As you can imagine now…it's better not to know."

"You have to tell him."

"Don't tell me what I have to tell my son. And you better not tell him."

Edward gets a defiant look on his face. "Don't you think he deserves to know? He worries about you as it is."

"What do you mean he worries about me?" she asks, her expression even more distraught.

"Maybe that's the wrong term. He's protective of you. But when we met, he asked for us to exchange phone numbers. He wanted us to have each other's numbers just in case anything ever happened to you."

"Really?" she says quietly, sadness painted all over her features.

"Even if you don't see the future of our relationship the way I do, Jacob is your family. He needs to be part of your decision."

Bella closes her eyes and pictures her son from the last time they were together. As they dined on his favorite home-cooked meal, he excitedly told her about his graduate work and the latest news with his friends. She could feel how full of promise things were for him at this stage in his life.

What if she got sick and could no longer take care of herself? How would he cope with the slow death of her mind and personality? He's an only child with an absent father and no other family around. Who will he go to for help, to lean on when things get too hard?

She allows herself to imagine for a moment how he'd deal with her suddenly being gone. The feeling's so overwhelming she pushes it out of her like a gush of air before opening her eyes and looking back at Edward.

"Is anyone truly that selfless, to be willing to give up someone that they love?" she asks him. "No. We want to hold on, often not letting go until the bitter end….even if it's that person's deepest desire to not continue on when there's no quality of life."

She shakes her head and twists her fingers together as she continues. "No one wants to be a burden to the people they love the most."

She walks to the couch across from Edward and sinks down into the cushions.

"I couldn't give up my mom, Edward. And I've always regretted it."'

He gives her a long look before he turns away. "I know regret too, Isabella."

She studies him for a minute before she replies. He seems to be holding something very painful of his own deep inside. She can see it in his eyes, but he remains silent so she continues.

"My grandmother started getting ill in her early fifties. At that time they weren't sure what it was. She was too young to be senile, but she starting doing weird stuff and forgetting a lot. As time went on she just got more and more confused. My mom took care of her until the end. I was too young to remember a lot of it, but I know it got really bad."

Edward looks grim. "So your grandmother had it, too?"

Bella nods. "What I do remember is my mom telling me over and over that she never wanted to end up like that, and that she'd make sure that she didn't."

"What did she do to make sure?" Edward asks.

"Mom was diligent about all the legal stuff: the power of attorneys, the refusal to be resuscitated, stuff like that. Really though, none of that paperwork protects you from Alzheimer's. Maybe she hoped she wouldn't get it. Maybe she had plans I never knew about and she waited too long—waited until she was too confused to act on them."

"Maybe she changed her mind and decided to let her life be God's will," Edward says quietly.

"Maybe. But if so that contradicted everything she ever told me before her illness, before Alzheimer's fogged and then obliterated her every thought."

Bella turns toward the window and wipes the tears out of her eyes.

"One night we were sitting in the living room. I used to take her in there every evening and play her favorite records. At that point she still seemed to enjoy the music even though she couldn't speak clearly anymore."

Edward leans forward, with his elbows on his knees giving her his full attention.

"I got up to turn over the record and when I got back to where we were sitting, I noticed she was slumped over. I rushed over to her and when I held her head up, she was losing her color and turning blue."

She looks over at Edward and shakes her head. "For a moment I realized that I had a choice. She didn't look distressed. I could've leaned her back and held her hand while nature took it's course. For that moment, I knew that was the right thing, but the longer I watched her the more I started to panic. I lost my nerve, ran to the phone, and called 911."

"You loved her so you saved her," Edward says quietly.

Bella nods bitterly. "But a lot of good that did. They revived her at the house then took her in an ambulance to the hospital. Oh my God, I will never forget that night. They ran every test known to man on her and she didn't understand what was going on, so she completely freaked out. I kept insisting that there was to be no more tests, but they ignored me."

"Well, it's their job to save people," Edward states.

"Yes, they saved her. But two days later when they finally released her, she was worse than ever and it was the beginning of the final years of hell."

Bella's tears are flowing freely now and Edward gets up to find some Kleenex. He hands her the box when he steps back into the room.

"Do you understand how much I regret what I did that night? I had my chance to free her from the cage, but instead I just locked her in."

Edward pauses, but then gets up and sits down on the couch next to her. When she instinctively shifts toward him, he slowly pulls her in his arms. He's relieved when she doesn't pull away.

"You can't torture yourself about that, Isabella. You operated on instincts. I bet your mom would've done the same."

She settles into him and his nurturing slowly calms her. As they sit quietly, her mind and heart try to catch up with all of the words that have just been spoken.

She looks up at him and notices his sad eyes. "You said you have regrets too, Edward. Is it about your dad?"

He nods slowly.

She gives him a sympathetic look. "Do you want to talk about it? I promise to be a good listener."

He rubs his chin on the top of her head, relieved to see that she's not as upset with him as she was. The last thing he wants to do is fight with her about all this.

She can feel him internally debate something before he finally speaks.

"My dad made the same decision you have…and I was the one who found him after he'd taken the pills."

She sits up, startled, and pulls back to look at him. "Oh, no. I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"I wasn't hiding it. It's just something that's very hard for me to talk about."

"I'm so sorry," she says quietly, as she rests her hand on his knee.

"My dad was like your mom, very clear on how he felt about the situation if he was ever in an irreversible decline. He didn't see the point in remaining burdened with something that permanently took away his quality of life."

Bella nods reverently. "Yes, quality of life. That's the crux of it," she says. "I think it's easier for people to question the idea that if you're in a horrific accident and on life support, would you want to be kept alive artificially?" Bella explains. "But people don't think about the grey areas. What about illnesses where you're in constant pain, where you can't take care of yourself and you're a burden to others? What if you no longer know who you are and what you're doing? Why should someone be able to say no to euthanasia for illnesses where there's no hope—when all that's left is the knowledge that things will get worse?"

"It's very complicated," Edward says solemnly. "Near the end when Dad talked about life not being worth living, I thought it was part of his depression. I also knew that some things still made him happy: visits from his grandkids, watching John Wayne movies, listening to big band music. Yet, still he seemed to be getting more and more hopeless."

"Can you blame him?" Bella asks.

"No, but then to my surprise, one week he seemed to be getting better, he was happier…even joked with me a few times. He started telling me how much he appreciated me, and what kind of man I was. It made me feel so optimistic," Edward says sadly.

Edward reaches for Bella's hand and feels great relief when she lets him hold it. He notices how cold her skin feels as he continues.

"Early in the week he presented me with tickets to a concert at the Disney Concert Hall. He told me he wanted me to take Lauren on a special date—that I had spent too much time taking care of him and neglecting her. He wanted me to change all of that."

"At first, I didn't know what to say. Lauren had left me over a month before but I hadn't told Dad because he'd been having such a rough time and I knew it would only make him worse. I knew he would blame himself so I just didn't talk about her when I was with him. I got into this pattern where I'd ask him to tell me stories about when he was young, or what it was like when he and mom first married."

"As much as I bet you're glad you heard those stories, that must have been very awkward for you," Bella commiserates. "What happened with the concert?"

Edward dips his head. "I gave the tickets to Jasper and Alice and of course, didn't tell Dad."

Bella squeezes his hand. "That was the kind thing to do."

"Well, I'm not sure how I feel about all of that now. You see, the whole thing was a set-up."

"What do you mean?" Bella asks.

"I waited until eleven that night to go check on him so he wouldn't know I didn't use the tickets. It's actually weird I went to see him that late. I don't know how to explain it, but I just had a bad feeling all evening, and I couldn't keep myself away."

"Was he gone already when you got there?" Bella asks, stumbling on the last words.

"No, just sleeping heavily. I adjusted the blankets around him and right before I shut off his lights, I noticed the bottle of pills on the bedside table. They weren't anything I recognized. When I got closer, I realized the bottle was empty and that there was an envelope addressed to me next to where the pills had been."

Bella lifts her hand and presses it over her mouth.

"I instantly knew he'd set the whole thing up…everything had been planned. I was so angry about that. The first reaction I had was to yell at him as he laid there in the grip of death. He even flinched in his sleep."

"Oh, no," Bella says.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that. I was just so damn mad. He'd shut me out of the most important decision and I never even got a chance to say goodbye."

Bella bows her head silently.

"Like you, I called 911 but rather than stopping the tests like you did, I was begging everyone at the hospital to do whatever it took to save him. I was devastated to have no say in what happened, no control. First Mom dies, then Lauren leaves, and then dad pulls the emergency exit cord to eject himself right out of our world. Fuck it all. Just fuck-it was so wrong."

"I'm sorry, Edward," Bella says quietly.

"And you know what?" he asks, the level of frustration in his voice growing. "After hours at the hospital with doctors pumping his stomach, technicians running tests, working him over…he died anyway. He died not the way he'd planned, peacefully on his own. He died surrounded by faceless workers in a cold hospital while I was outside on my cell phone trying to reach Rose again."

"Oh, Edward," Bella sighs as she presses a Kleenex against her wet cheeks.

Edward leans back into the couch and lets his head drop back. He can feel the tears burn in the edges of his eyes before they slide down his temples.

"It killed me, Isabella. When the doctor came outside to find me and tell me that he died, I was inconsolable. I could barely stand up and couldn't drive. Rose had to come get me and take me home. She stayed the night with me, she was so worried."

"Some days I would wake up angry at him, others I would be overcome with guilt for not respecting his decision and dragging him to the hospital. I felt sorry for myself more days than I want to admit. I hoped, knowing what happened, that Lauren would come back and try to work on things just out of respect for our marriage and the loss we'd all suffered through."

"I can imagine," Bella says sadly.

"It's been a very dark time…until I met you, really."

"And here I am, Edward."

He looks at her as she sits quietly calm, her heart open to hear anything he needs to say to her.

She turns her hands so that her palms face up as if she's making an offering.

"Here I am."

.

He watches her slowly rise off the couch and turn to him. "I think we need some wine and good chocolate. Would you like some music?" She doesn't wait to hear his answer.

Edward closes his eyes and listens to her bustle about the kitchen, then the click of her iPod snapping into the player.

"What's this?" he asks as the first notes of the music fill the air.

"_The Best of Cole Porter_," she says happily. She returns to the living room and sets the tray on the coffee table, next to the bottle of pills.

She pours the wine and hands him his glass. He's grateful for the burn as he takes a large sip. The numbing starts right away and he looks over at her just as she drops a chocolate into her open mouth.

"Mmmm," she sighs. "Want some?"

He doesn't really, but he nods to be agreeable. They both take another long sip of wine before she delicately picks up a chocolate and holds it close to tease him.

"Are you ready?"

"Never," he says, their eyes locked.

He smiles at her. "Always."

She gently places the sweet against his lips, and when they part she slides the chocolate inside then slowly drags her fingers across his lips as she pulls them away.

He closes both his mouth and his eyes as the square slowly melts. He feels her press her lips against his, then pull away.

"Better?" she asks, whispering.

"Much." He nods before sipping the wine again. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"Perhaps," she says, smiling. "I want to make you feel good again."

"That's going to take more than chocolate," he says sadly.

"I know," she admits, as she runs her fingers through his hair and touches his face with reverence. "I love you, beautiful man."

He nods, his heart aching for this woman he fears will slip between his fingers.

.

With each sip of wine, their tentativeness between each other softens. When the wine bottle's almost empty and she's sitting in his lap, he shares a secret.

"Remember the night I was so sick? The night I had that horrible fever?"

"Yes," she says, setting her empty glass down and pressing her cheek against his neck.

"I saw my parents that night. They came to me."

She nods her head as she recollects. "I remember you telling me that."

"Did I tell you that they said you were on your way?"

Chills run up her spine. "No," she whispers.

"It was like a dream and we were standing on a bank edging a body of water. They were on one side and I on the other. Even though we were apart I could still hear their voices, still feel their love.

"They said _Isabella's on her way, Edward. She's the one you need to wait for. Hold on, she will come._"

"No," she gasps, swaying a bit from the wine. "Did they really say that?"

He nods. "When I first woke up the next morning I thought it was a dream, but when I saw you asleep on my couch next to me, I knew it was real. I believe that they were with me, Isabella. I really do."

"I do too," she says quietly.

He sets his glass down. "So that's how I know this was meant to be. What if they sent you to me in the very beginning?"

"That's a lovely thought. Maybe they did."

They let the thick haze of drunkenness pull over them like a blanket, sheltering them from the foreboding air.

He pulls her tight against him and sighs. "And I'm never letting you go. I love you so much…if you only knew."

She turns to face him. The wine has left his face flushed and his hair wild, but she feels the passion and truth in his expression. "I _do_ know. I love you so much, too."

He pulls her into an embrace, so raw and overflowing with emotion that she's swept up in it.

He tenderly kisses her cheeks and her neck, then her hands, shoulders, and breasts. His strong arms hold her, his hands touching every part of her. She feels worshiped, each wave of love hitting her one after another until she feels one with him, like she's washed right into his heart from the swirling tide.

Their passion builds, and he pulls her clothes open needing skin, her scent, her taste. Her eyes close when he eases off the couch and kneels before her, spreading her legs apart to love her with his mouth. He pleasures her, the sensation so overwhelming she knows nothing ever will compare to the way he loves her. It's a thrill to surrender to him as he leads her through the brilliant build-up, then shattering release.

He rises up, stroking her thighs as she tries to catch her breath. Eyes wild and composure crumbling, he shoves the colorful pillows off the couch and then quickly undoes his jeans. She lies back on the cushions, opening her legs wide as he crawls over her. He fills her so briskly, so forcefully, that it takes both their breaths away.

"Isabella," he groans as his hips rise and fall hard.

"Yes," she chants, her body pushing up to welcome his feverish need.

"Good God," he groans, his hand cupping her breast as he thrusts in long strokes. He can't seem to get enough of her.

She skims her fingertips over his strong, broad shoulders and pulls him closer. "Take me, I'm yours," she whispers, her voice raw.

He embraces her over and over with desperate kisses. It's the kind of passion that happens when a man has to spread out his hunger so he doesn't ravage her all at once. He revels in the glory, the feeling of filling her completely, every part of her wrapped around him. They make love with no restraint, her nails on his back as his teeth graze her neck, the wildfire of their love burning over them.

They reach their climax as if every painful step of their conflict tonight has led to this moment-the chance for their bodies to express what words can't. It's a moment that doesn't feel like an ending, but shines a light on what can be. With the sensuous caress of relief, he feels hope again.

.

Completely spent, they settle back and lie in each other's arms for a long while until she has to wiggle out from under him to head to the bathroom. When she returns, she picks up the pill bottle and starts to return it to the mantle before rejoining him on the couch.

"What are you doing?" he asks, confused.

"Putting this back where it belongs," she answers simply.

"But I thought…" he says.

"You thought what?"

"That we resolved that. I thought we agreed you didn't need those."

She looks back at him, surprised, and tips her head.

"I don't understand. If anything our stories we shared just made my point of view _more_ clear about my position. I still need to control how my life ends _if _and when I get sick. Nothing has changed, Edward."

He's stunned.

"What?" he asks bewildered.

"Nothing has changed."

_Hope is a fickle mistress that walks out of the room as soon as it starts to tilt._

He wonders if they're just testing each other's limits. If she truly loves him, wouldn't she look at this decision with him again? Aren't they supposed to be a team? His anger fires up.

"What about me? Didn't I make myself clear? One day, _if _you're in the early stages, will you be even lucid enough to recognize what's happening? I don't understand how any of this will work. It paralyzes me to think that you'll make a sudden decision on your own. After everything I've gone through, that isn't a fear I can live with, Isabella."

She stands still and watches him, resisting the urge to crawl back in his lap and convince him to reconsider. She wonders if he listened from his heart to anything she said tonight. She feels betrayed by his challenge. "Are you sure about that?" she asks him sadly.

"I'm sure. I can't just pretend that none of this has happened. This is a deal-breaker," he says with complete conviction. He's terrified, knowing he has just drawn a hard line in the ever-shifting sand.

He desperately hopes she will back down rather than lose him. The thought of it makes him feel unimportant…expendable. He's already felt that way in a relationship; he can't bear to feel that way again. He holds his breath waiting for her to speak.

"Then we are broken." The finality in her tone guts him.

"Come on…" he insists.

"I've been very clear."

"Yes, but…"

"This resolution is engrained in me, Edward. It's my religion, the thing that gets me through each day. I can't bear the idea of the alternative. Don't make me choose. You won't win."

She could have slapped him hard across the face and it would have stung less than her words. He stands and pulls up his jeans, fastening them quickly. If he doesn't get out of this house soon, he's sure he'll say things he'll regret. He quickly gathers his jacket and guitar. She silently follows him.

As he heads for the front door, she finds her voice.

"Don't leave, Edward. Please. Not like this."

"Not like this?" he asks angrily. "You just broke me, and what? You want me to hang out?"

She steps back, stunned.

"I'm not a dollhouse you can take out and play with then put back on the shelf, Isabella. I thought we were building a future here."

"We were. We are," she says, quickly correcting herself.

He grimaces. "You know, it just never occurred to me that I hadn't carefully looked to see when the expiration date was."

"That's not fair," she responds, angry and hurt.

"Not fair?" he asks, his face hardening with rage. He thinks about her college affair with Leo. She'd seemed madly in love, but never questioned the fact that it would have an abrupt ending. After he left she just moved on when she clearly could have had other choices.

"Why did you let me fall in love with you? Surely you understand the kind of man I am-what I'm about. I'm losing my heart all over again."

"I fell in love with you too, Edward," she says, the tears now streaming down her face. "Did we have a choice? Do we ever have a choice when it comes to our hearts?"

"And that's it—isn't it. You _have_ a choice. You're choosing to walk into the future without me. You're choosing to break me."

"Don't say that. You're making that decision. We could choose to live in the moment and make the most of every day we have together. As it is there's no way to know how much time any of us have…"

He holds his hand up to stop her.

She shakes her head. "It doesn't have to be this way."

He pulls open the front door and turns back toward her.

"Every single decision we make, whether large or smaller, leads us down a path. My dad always warned me to pay attention, as some decisions take us somewhere we shouldn't be, where there's no turning back."

Bella turns away from him.

"You know what?" he asks, his tone getting harder. "This fucking pain and rage I'm feeling makes me regret the decision I made months ago when my phone rang late at night."

"You don't mean that," she says, her voice almost unrecognizable.

"I do. Right now, I wish I'd never picked up the call."

.

As she stumbles through the house blinded by tears, she searches for a place to huddle before the darkness comes. She doesn't hear the sound as he slams his car door and starts the ignition. She doesn't hear the squeal of his tires against the asphalt as he guns the engine and speeds away.

All she can hear is the sound of her thundering heart as it gradually slows until she isn't sure if it's beating at all.

.

.

* * *

_I know this is hard, a lot of complicated issues but sometimes you've got to walk through fire to get where you want to be.  
_

_Talk to me...I really hope to hear from you...  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Imagery and love on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway_


	18. Chapter 18 Own it Like a Champ

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy-all wonderful women.  
_

**_Thank you for the heartfelt reviews for the last chapter. I was truly honored by your response w_****_hether you sided with Edward, with Bella, or with both of them_**. Writing this story has been joyful and emotional, but also painful for me. Your encouragement has made me feel like it's been worth the effort.  


* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Eighteen / Own it Like a Champ**

.

After Edward leaves, Bella wanders from room to room searching for something indefinable. Strangely thirsty, she keeps drinking water but her thirst is never quenched. Every part of her feels hollow and parched.

The heartbreak's consuming her. She's stunned by how quickly her and Edward's brilliant green go-light changed to ugly red. Her mind whirls and spins with thoughts both irrational and sound. Pressing her palms to her forehead, she listens to her breaths and tries to slow down her thoughts.

.

Before dawn breaks, she desperately hunts for the lingering scent of Edward, proof that he'd ever been there with her. A skittish animal on the prowl, she crawls into her bed where he slept last, and aches as she clutches the sheets. Later, she wanders into the living room and presses herself into the couch cushions, but with each crushing hold, his essence fades a bit more.

Hoping he's back in his loft apartment, she thinks about getting into her car to go to him. Would she discover him sleeping dreamlessly in his bed next to the big painting? It occurs to her that they never made love in that bed, and now they never will.

Bella imagines the future. When he finally brings another woman home to love, will Bella's tiny painting still be on his bedside table? Will her colorful flags still be draped across his room? She curls into herself and wails until she has no voice. Hours pass.

.

.

She opens her eyes to brighter light and can't remember when she's felt this kind of pain, a shattering of sharp and jagged pieces. She curses the pill bottle lazily perched on the mantle, damns her legacy of rotting minds, and regrets her absolute resolve that forced a chasm to split between them.

There can be no bridge over this divide. In the dark hour he cannot be left, and she cannot stay.

She mourns that they never shared a bottle of wine on the patio at the Villa Eugenia. They had so many plans. She teased she was going to take a picture of him leaning sideways, mimicking the Tower of Pisa behind him. They had lingered together studying their villa on the website, marveling at everything from the home's secret garden to the old cast iron tub.

He pledged that right before she left to meet Leo, he'd bathe her in that tub then make love to her on the grand canopy bed. He wanted his scent all over her, and her lips swollen with his kisses. He wanted the man from her past to know she belonged to him now.

She loved him for that.

Going to Italy with him felt like a glorious dream. Now she knows it was, and dreams don't always come true.

The irony does not escape her that the one time she wishes she could forget everything, each memory with him is ultra-clear and high definition. There's no forgetting a single moment with Edward Cullen.

.

.

At eight-thirty in the morning her phone rings, and she's startled out of her haze. Her heart drops when she sees it's Leah instead of Edward, but she picks up the phone and tries to focus.

"Hey Leah," she says softly.

"Are you okay, Bella? You sound like crap."

Bella knows she doesn't have it in her to explain anything yet, so she lies.

"No, …not so good today. My stomach's upset. I didn't sleep."

"Oh, that sucks—probably something you ate. So we better cancel our workout this morning. Do you have stuff to take?"

Bella remembers she has a shoot this afternoon and realizes it's the perfect chance to ask for help. Leah's girlfriend, Maria, has assisted her on shoots before and she's the rock Bella can lean on to get through the session.

"Yeah, but I've got a problem though. I have a shoot this afternoon I really can't cancel. Do you think there's any way Maria could come by and help?"

"I bet she can. She's been painting a mural in Venice, but I think she couldn't do it today because of some event going on. I'll ask her to give you a call as soon as she's out of the shower."

When they hang up Bella rests her cheek on the kitchen counter finding relief in the smooth, cool surface. She understands that life will go on, work must be done, bills must be paid, even if this moment, this day, this week will be agony to get through. She must get through it.

She thinks about starless nights, and the violent storm of the longing and regret that lies ahead.

She prays she'll be brave and strong.

.

..~*~..

.

Edward slides into the booth and pulls off his sunglasses to glance at the menu. Every movement exhausts him. Reminded of his lack of appetite, he pushes the menu away again.

Alice looks at him with a curious expression. "Where's Bella?" She asks.

Just the mention of her name fires up his fury again. He knows his level of anger towards Bella is irrational, but it feels better than the sinking sadness he wallowed in when Lauren left. He grits his teeth and tries to push the wave down as he decides how to respond to Alice.

Jasper nods. "I thought you said she was coming?"

"I did, but she's not." He picks up the menu again and pretends to study the selections.

"She's not?" Alice asks, her irritating intuitive sense firing up.

"Nope." Edward answers, lifting the menu higher.

Alice reaches over and pulls the menu down. "What's going on, Edward?"

He lets out a long sigh. "We broke up."

"What the fuck?" Jasper says too loudly. "No way."

"Yes, way," Edward says in a low voice. "Can we talk about something else now?"

Alice gives Jasper one of those _shut up and let me handle this_ looks.

She smoothes her hands over the wooden tabletop and looks up at Edward with gentle eyes. "What happened?"

He shrugs unconvincingly. "We had a fight."

"You had a fight?"

"Yes," he says, studying the menu.

"What aren't you telling me?" Alice asks.

"How are the fish tacos?" Edward asks randomly, ignoring her probing.

"Come on, Edward," she says, frustrated.

"What?"

"This is crazy talk. Did you do something stupid?"

"Thanks, Alice. I appreciate your faith in me."

"You two have something special, Edward. I'm sure whatever you think is broken can be fixed. If you say you're sorry…she'll come back to you."

Edward shakes his head then lets it drop.

"No," he says softly.

"How do you know that for certain?" Alice asks.

"_I_ broke up with _her_," he admits.

"What?" Jasper gasps before Alice elbows him.

"Why, Edward? Why'd you break up with her?"

He leans forward, pressing his fingers hard into his knees. "You know that thing people do? When someone says they're going to leave you, and so you break up with them first?" He leans back again. "Yeah, it was kind-of like that."

Alice looks upset. "What makes you think she's going to leave you? She's crazy about you. Anyone can see that."

"It's not something I imagined. She told me she was going to leave me. Believe me, she was very clear about it."

"Whoa, that sucks, man," Jasper commiserates.

Alice doesn't look convinced. "Are you sure? That just doesn't make sense to me. What reason did she give for why she'd leave you?"

Edward rubs his hands roughly over his face. "Look, I appreciate your guys' concern, but I really don't want to talk about this right now. Can we just talk about the event? It will help me to focus on something else for a few minutes. Okay?"

Alice opens up her folder and pulls out the list. "All right, but I'm here when you're ready to talk. Okay?" She gives him a look like she means business.

"Okay." Edward nods, realizing it's a good thing she's backing off. He's having enough trouble managing his anger without letting it out for his friends to see.

.

..~*~..

.

"You okay, Bella boo?" Maria asks sweetly, catching Bella gazing out the window.

Bella turns and smiles at her friend. It's the second day Maria has helped her, and she's hoping she can work on her shoots all week. She finds Maria's presence grounding and quietly supportive. It's the only thing that has gotten her through these painful portrait sessions of couples that are madly in love.

Bella steps away from the window. "I'm sorry I'm not myself, Maria. I've got some stuff going on that I need to make peace with."

"I figured something was up," Maria agrees. "You're normally so upbeat and focused when you shoot."

"Do you think the clients have noticed?" Bella asks, concerned.

"Nah, I just know you. Don't worry, you've come off very professional."

.

..~*~..

.

Three miles away, Edward is not at peace either.

His face is twisted with rage. The sweat trails down his neck and back as he works his body. He fights exhaustion and the ache of his muscles as he pushes on.

The punching bag at his gym becomes his victim. He pummels it, wondering why happiness has deserted him again. All he wanted was a partner, a good woman to walk through the good and bad parts of life with. He wanted someone who would stay by his side, not stray or gut him with dramatic intentions.

_Is that really too fucking much to ask?_

With each slam of the fist against the dense surface, there's a release, but then a kickback as new thoughts take shape. It's like trying to put out a fire when the devil is lighting one match after another. He finally gives up and heads to the shower.

He wonders if he will ever trust a woman again.

.

..~*~..

.

When the equipment is put away, Maria gathers up the film to drop off at the lab. She tries to convince Bella to join her and Leah for dinner and a movie.

"Come on, Bella. We're seeing _The Kids are All Right_. It's been a fantasy of mine to see Julianne Moore as a lesbian. Don't you want to be there with me when my dreams come true?" Maria teases.

"You have a thing for Julianne Moore?" Bella asks, surprised.

"Yeah, don't tell Leah but I've always had a thing for redheads with freckles. I could just eat her up."

"Yeah, you can bet I'm not telling Leah that. She's a little possessive you know."

"A little?" Maria laughs. "I found out from my ex-, Jessica, that Leah had post-returned the birthday card she sent me with _'fuck off'_ scrawled across the back."

Bella's eyes get wide. "Really?"

Maria laughs. "Yeah, really. Actually I thought that was really hot. Damn, I love that woman when she's possessive. It makes me wild."

"Well, as entertaining as you two are, I'm in for the night. But next time, …okay?"

"Sure, Bella," Maria says softly as she hugs her goodbye and heads out.

.

Back in the house, Bella notices a new piece of mail on the floor by the front door. She picks up the unmarked manila envelope and slowly walks over to the couch to sit down. She can't help but fear whatever is inside.

"_Oh, Edward,"_ she says softly.

She's sure this is from him and it pains her to realize he may have been on her doorstep only moments ago, but didn't want to see her.

She holds the envelope on her lap and runs her hands over it. She wishes she could pull open the flap and find hope.

She wishes they could go back in time to a week ago and redo everything.

When she reaches inside, the only thing she pulls out is a bunch of computer print-outs. Everything is wrinkled from being hastily stuffed into the envelope. On top, she finds her plane ticket confirmation to Italy with the printed barcode. She searches through the rest of the pile but his ticket is missing. Next is a confirmation on the car rental to be picked up at the Florence airport. At the bottom are a series of sheets about the villa and local information that the agent included. The agent's name, email and phone number are circled in red on one of the pages.

She flips through the stack several times and then examines the envelope again to see if there was any kind of a note, but comes up empty handed. She closes her eyes and presses the papers to her chest. Logically she knew he wouldn't be coming to Italy, but there was a part of her that hadn't given up hope. The trip's in a week. He must've felt like decisions had to be made.

She sinks back into the couch and lets the tears fall.

.

..~*~..

.

Late that night Edward's phone rings. He looks at the clock and shakes his head. It could only be one person and he's not sure he can handle hearing her voice. He contemplates leaving the room so he doesn't listen if she leaves a message, but he's weighted to the chair with curiosity.

He closes his eyes nervously when his voice comes on, informing the caller to leave a message. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he waits for the beep.

"Edward, it's Bella." There's a pause. "Um, I got the Italy stuff._"_

He squeezes his eyes tight. She sounds broken, not the irreverent woman he fell in love with. Despite his anger, his heart constricts in his chest.

"I guess I knew you wouldn't want to go to Italy—I mean you made it pretty clear you don't want to see me anymore. I think I just hoped…"

She hoped? Does she even begin to understand what her unbending decision has done to him?

"I mean, I was so excited about going there with you and this is so hard. I'm just really, really sad."

She pauses and clears her throat. He realizes how uncomfortable she must feel. It's excruciating for him to even listen to.

"So, you must be out or you don't want to talk to me. Either way I hope you're doing okay. "

He shakes his head_. No, I'm not doing okay, Bella. Not even close._

She painfully continues, her voice full of pain.

"I just want to ask a favor since I'm going to pay you back for all of this. Do you think there's any way you could cancel the villa? I'm sending you a check for the plane ticket tomorrow, but the villa is really expensive for just me. And honestly, I think I'd just be too sad to stay there since we picked it out and planned being there together. I'd rather just find a little room in the town to stay where I'm around other people. I think that would be better for me right now."

When she continues to talk her voice is uneven as if she's started to cry.

"Well, anyway. Could you let me know about that? I'd really appreciate it. If you don't want to talk to me, just leave a message on my cell phone. I'll turn the ringer off.

"Okay. Thanks, Edward. Take care of yourself."

He listens to her hang up and the whirl of the old-fashioned answering machine as it stores the message. For a moment, his anger fades and he aches all over for her.

He paces back and forth across his living room before stopping to pour himself a drink. He wonders why every hour feels twice as long since they parted. Worrying how he will ever feel right without her, he gets angry all over again. He picks up the phone.

She answers it after the second ring.

"Hey, Edward_",_ she says softly.

"Hey," he responds, taken aback since she said she wouldn't pick up. If he'd known she was answering he would've been more prepared. He's suddenly without words.

She helps him along. "Don't be mad I picked up. It was instinctive. So did you get my message?"

"Yeah. I did." He sighs. "Listen, it's too late to cancel the villa. The cut-off for cancellations was two weeks ago. So just use it, and don't worry about it…the money part I mean."

"But I can't," she protests.

"I said I would pay for it, Isabella."

She bristles from how irritated he sounds.

"But that's the point. I don't want you to pay for it and I don't want to stay there without you."

He wishes she'd thought of that before she pushed him off a cliff. He's pent up and his response comes from an ugly place. He can't seem to help himself.

"Why? Are you going to stay with Leo now that I'm out of the picture?"

There's a long pause and he wonders if she's hung up, but she suddenly speaks up.

"How in the world can you ask me that? Is that what you want me to do?"

"I really don't care." He responds immediately, not considering how cruel the words are. Not acknowledging to himself how much he really does care.

"You don't care? Really?"

"No, I don't. Feel free to do whatever you want with Leonard. It's really none of my concern now."

"Wow." She gasps. "Just like that, huh?"

"What do you want me to say, Isabella?"

"I don't know, …but not that. You have one cold heart, Mr. Cullen."

"Don't call me that," he says darkly.

There's a long pause.

"Can I ask you a question?" She asks.

"What?" He responds with a clip.

"When Lauren cheated on you, were you this angry? Did you talk to her like this?"

"What's your point?"

"And when your mom and dad died, did you become this angry man?"

"This is different, and I can't imagine why you'd think they'd compare."

"Maybe I think that because I'm getting mad, too. I didn't cheat on you, Edward. With all respect to your dad, I didn't send you out for a concert then take pills to end my life. Yet you're treating me like I've done worse. …Like I'm some horrible person you can barely tolerate. Has it occurred to you that your rage is misplaced and I don't deserve the brunt of it?"

The volume of her voice had been building, but suddenly it drops again as she speaks quietly into the phone.

"You found something very personal of mine, a pill bottle that was something I did several years ago. It was created out of tremendous pain and loss, …my way of coping with the fear that was taking over my life."

"My point is that I didn't do this to you, Edward. We would have discussed it eventually, but we were both broadsided when you found that bottle."

"You can say that again," he responds, sounding irritated.

"You know what? I deserve better than this. I expected more from you. I've loved you with my whole heart and to hear that you don't care what I do now is more than I can take."

"I expected more from you too, Isabella."

"Yes, I get that. You know what, though? I don't think you've really listened to anything I've said."

She lets out a frustrated groan.

"Uhhh! Okay, then, Edward. I'm going to go and deal with my anger so I can let it go. I'm going to live my best life and I hope for your sake that you figure out how to live yours."

She hangs up quickly, not waiting for him to respond.

.

He sits stunned for several minutes and replays the conversation in his head over and over. With their connection severed, a sickening feeling slowly starts to come over him. Somewhere inside it gnaws at him that there was some truth to what she said. Maybe his anger is displaced.

It also hits him that he has no idea how he's going to live his best life without her.

.

..~*~..

.

The towering stacks of CD's tumble around her as Bella frantically digs for what she's searching for. She's oblivious to the CD cases crashing to the floor, her focus laser sharp until she gathers some of the punk and hard rock titles of her youth that she was looking for. She pumps her free arm upwards in victory.

Her fingers shake as she fires up the stereo and lets the pounding music fill her home with fury. The bass is so loud the floor's vibrating. Bella stands with her fists clenched, letting the anger roll through her. The rage behind the music is just what she needs.

Bella cranks up the stereo and storms around the house yelling whatever words she remembers. When her throat starts to ache and her body gets weary, she marches into the kitchen and pours a tall glass of wine. Next she grabs a stack of paper and a black Sharpie marker. She parks herself at the kitchen table and angrily starts writing down her thoughts in bold black letters. The words tumble out of her in a fit of fury.

As the level of wine in her glass gets lower the sentiments get more hostile. Bella feels like a jilted middle school girl and her dramatic declarations feel strangely satisfying. Eventually, the rage settles enough that she decides to wrap things up.

She pours another glass of wine and decides to make a final affirmation, all in caps.

I AM WONDERFUL AND DESERVE TO BE TREATED WELL.

I ACCEPT NOTHING LESS THAN TRUE LOVE AND RESPECT.

I WILL NEVER GIVE UP LIVING MY BEST LIFE.

I WILL LIVE EVERY DAY WITH JOY IN MY HEART.

She snaps the cap back on the Sharpie, gathers up her papers and wine glass, and heads to the backyard.

.

The night air is surprisingly brisk, but when she lights up the fire pit the warmth is soothing. She pulls her chair up close and gazes into the seductive dance of the flames. Taking another long sip of wine, she settles into the warm fuzziness moving through her veins.

_This is good. This is what I need,_ she thinks. She feels proud that she's taking care of herself.

Starting at the bottom of the pile, one by one, Bella wads up the sheets of angry words and feeds them to the fire. Each toss is made with a ceremonious flourish. She smiles as she sees the words burn to ashes and then skitter their way around the fire. Some of the most delicate ashes float up into the night sky with the smoke.

When she wads up the last paper full of anger, she speaks out loud. "I release this anger. …I'm letting you go now, Edward." She gently drops the while ball of paper and watches it burn.

As she finishes up her wine, she stretches her legs out and sighs.

"I'm going to be okay. I'm tough. Tomorrow, I begin again," she whispers. Her eyes well up with tears, but she brushes them away with determination.

She takes the final paper, …her positive affirmation, her mantra, the words that will get her through, and she gently lays it uncrushed over the flames. She watches the paper curl and yellow as the edges sizzle with flames. She rests her hand over her chest and seals the words into heart before they disappear.

.

.

The next morning, Bella's eyes pop open and she sits up with a start. She immediately wonders about Edward and starts to feel the now familiar anguish, but then pushes the thought of him out of her head. Her resolve fired up from last night's ritual, she jumps out of bed.

As she showers and pulls on her clothes, she wonders what to do today. It's the first free day she's had since her parting with Edward, …and she has no shoots, no appointments, …just nothing but time. She decides to make the most of it. She knows it's the first step in starting to heal.

She decides to go with the first random thought that crosses her mind.

Sunscreen applied, she has a bottle of water, and wallet stocked with cash as she barrels out the front door. Her neighbor, Lisa, is getting in her car to go to work when Bella waves to her.

"Hey, Bella, how are things?"

"I'm great," Bella says happily. "Hey, do you know if the buses on Vine continue down to Rossmore?"

"The buses?" Lisa asks, confused. "Is there something wrong with your car?"

"No, I thought I'd try something new this morning and I need to get up to the subway station on Hollywood Boulevard."

"Really?" Lisa asks, surprised. No one she knows would take the bus or L.A. subway unless under duress and clearly Bella is pleased about the prospect. "Look, I'm heading to the valley for a meeting. You want me to drop you off at the subway station?"

"Oh, that would be lovely! Thanks so much."

When they' are buckled up and heading north, Lisa turns to Bella. "So where are you taking the subway to?"

"I'm going to get off at Union Station. You see, I woke up with the most intense craving for a fresh churro and café de olla for breakfast and I thought what better place than Olvera Street! It's right across the street from Union Station, and there's a subway station there. I thought, why not take the bus too? What an adventure!"

Lisa looks at Bella with a startled glance. "You're taking the subway all the way to Olvera Street for a churro for breakfast?"

"Sure am! Do you want to join me?"

Lisa laughs. "No, I'm afraid I'll have to pass, but maybe next time." She shakes her head. "Really, Bella, you're such a kick!"

Bella smiles. "I suppose I am," she agrees.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella grins on the subway ride, marveling at the range of people. She wonders where each person is going and what they're thinking about. The whole experience is fascinating to her since, like most Angelenos, she usually drives everywhere.

Once on Olvera Street, she wanders among the vendors as they set up their stands full of knick knacks and Mexican treats. When she sees the colorful Mexican banners strung across the first of many booths, she thinks about Edward and feels a swell of sadness, but she soldiers on until she finds her favorite little bakery.

Her warm churro and café de olla in hand, Bella finds a bench to sit and have her breakfast. She takes a bite of her treat and closes her eyes, grinning at the heavenly explosion of flavor and texture in her mouth.

She swings her feet under the bench and watches people walk by. Sitting under the dappled light of the large oak tree, she's so happy to be surrounded by all the bright colors and to reminisce, recognizing how little Olvera Street has changed since her mother brought her here as a girl.

When her morning treat is finished, she brushes off her lap and gathers her belongings. As she licks the sugar dusting off her lips, she slowly wanders down the main aisle of vendors selling goods. The idea occurs to her that she should buy something special.

Noticing Bella's interest, one of the clothing vendors draws her into her booth and urges Bella to try on one of the white tops with the elaborate colorful embroidery that wraps around the shoulders. Bella runs her fingers over the thick needlework of birds, leaves and flowers, and stands in front of the small mirror the shopkeeper holds up, admiring the garment so filled with light and happiness. She smiles and nods at the hopeful woman and pulls out her wallet.

Her final act before she leaves Olvera Street is to stop at a souvenir vendor and choose some of the little animals figurines to purchase, because they happily remind her of past visits with her mom and Jacob. After paying, she tenderly slides the bag into her purse, and with a contented sigh starts along the path leading towards Union Station to catch the subway home.

As she approaches the impressive building, she looks at her watch and realizes it's still early morning.

_Why not spend some time strolling through the train station? _

She heads into the dramatic main hall of the station as travelers buzz around her. In the grand hall, she soaks in the Mission style Spanish design bathed in a soft amber light. She settles into a leather seat and sits, just allowing herself to experience all the sensations of this historic landmark place that has seen so many people pass through it.

Everyone seems to walk by with great intention. They must all have places to go and people to see, such a contrast to Bella who isn't even sure why she's sitting there. Something about their nervous energy starts to get to her, and she begins to question her motivations. Suddenly reality presses down on her, and she gets uncomfortable.

What's she doing anyway? Creating distractions for herself isn't going to heal her or make the pain go away. It's not going to change the fact that under all this anger-fueled bravado, she misses Edward desperately.

Her spirits start to sink, and as she chews her thumbnail, she attempts to calm down by taking deep breaths. After the third breath she remembers how her mother used to recite the serenity prayer to her when she got worked up as a young girl. She begins to chant a modified version of it in her head…

_God grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change…like Edward,…the courage to change the things I can, certainly telling Leo that Jacob is his son would be good for that one…and the wisdom, and what little common sense I have, to know the difference._

She might be a bit short on common sense today, but surely it was wise for her to get out of the house and do something fun. She feels calmer already.

Moments later, she's startled by the booming voice over the loudspeaker.

_Five-Seventy-Eight Southbound to San Diego with stops in Long Beach, Irvine, San Clemente, and Oceanside will be boarding in fifteen minutes._

As each destination is called out it stirs up the wanderlust in Bella, the carefree feeling that there are so many wonderful places to explore. Yes, some as far as Italy, but some just in her backyard. It occurs to her that she should do more exploring. She hasn't gone to Laguna Beach to see Pageant of the Masters in years. …Why not? Why hasn't she visited Balboa Park in San Diego, or the fantastic zoo there? What's stopping her today from embarking on a bigger adventure?

Does she have the courage to do something this bold?

Bella suddenly jumps up and rushes down the aisle towards the ticket booths. She isn't even sure what has come over her, and she doesn't care. It may be the lingering sugar high, but it just sounds so exciting to get on a train without a plan.

She's flushed when she hurries up to the open window.

"I'd like a ticket for the train soon leaving for San Diego, please!"

The older Hispanic man with silver hair and a tired expression never takes his eyes off the screen. "One way or round trip?"

"Gee, I guess round trip. Yes, that makes sense. I'll have to come back now, won't I?"

The man pushes up his cap and studies her. When he realizes how excited she is, the edges of his lips curl up and his kind eyes twinkle.

"That's how it usually works. What time are you returning?" He edges a schedule in front of her and points to the line listing the times.

"Oh, I have no idea." She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't have a plan." Noticing a travel display next to her, she randomly grabs a few brochures.

He raises his eyebrows.

She imagines he's trying to size her up to see if she if she's teasing him. She looks down at his name tag.

"I'll tell you what, Jose. I think I'll just buy a one way and then figure the rest out later. Okay?"

He shrugs and chuckles. "It's your dime, mi amiga. It costs more to do it that way, but that's up to you."

"That's fine. Can I ask one other question? Can I get off at any stop, or is this an express train?"

"Well, where do you want to get off?" He asks patiently.

"I'm not sure yet. Isn't that wonderful? I'm going on an adventure, Jose!"

"An adventure?" He laughs then looks at his watch. "I can't remember when I've had someone other than a kid so excited to take the train. I like you, senora. Okay, Ms., what's your name anyway?"

"Bella," she says, grinning.

He grins back, as he takes her credit card. "Okay Ms. Bella, you go have yourself an adventure."

He hands her the credit card slip to sign and then her ticket. He pushes his glasses up his nose and then points with an encouraging smile. "Okay, head down that way to track eight. Hurry now."

She bounces on the balls of her feet as she zips up her purse. "Thank you!"

"You know something, Ms. Bella. If I were twenty years younger, I'd throw this cap down and come join you. Well, except my wife wouldn't like that much."

"Oh don't let twenty years stop you, Jose. Grab that wife of yours and take her on an adventure, too. You'll be glad you did!"

"Maybe I will!" He calls out to her with a wave as she starts rushing down the aisle.

.

Bella plops down in her seat just as the final whistle blows. Her heart's pounding watching the scenery start to slowly shift. As they pull out of the gritty Los Angeles train yards towards the California coastline, she's electrified. She claps her hands together and gives herself an inner cheer.

Today is her day. She's going to own it like a champ. She has no idea where's she's going, or what's going to happen, but there's one thing she does know…it's going to be great.

.

.

* * *

_I love hearing from you..._

_Thanks for reading. _

_xoxo_

_abbie_

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_


	19. Chapter 19 A Grand Adventure

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Nineteen / A Grand Adventure**

.

Just outside Long Beach, it occurs to Bella that she may want to start deciding on her destination or she'll be on the train all the way to San Diego. She's always been curious about the mission in San Juan Capistrano, where the swallows migrate in the early spring, but something livelier is what she has in mind. She looks through the tourist brochures she picked up at the ticket window.

She hears a small cough and looks up to see a little boy with bright blue eyes and curly brown hair peeking around his seat at her.

She waves to him and smiles.

He waves back and then turns around to sit forward in his seat.

A minute later, she notices the boy hanging his head sideways around the seat and giggling as he watches her.

She waves and smiles again.

He scoots off his seat and steps closer until he's standing right next to where Bella sits. "I'm Henry," he announces.

"I'm Bella," she responds, extending her hand to shake his. "Very nice to meet you, Henry."

"I'm going to Legoland," he states simply, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"How exciting for you," Bella says enthusiastically. "Who are you going with?"

"My mama," he explains. "She feld asleep."

Bella briefly stands up in her chair and sees a young woman passed out, her head awkwardly twisted against the headrest.

"Yes, she did. Your mama's smart. She's taking a nap so she'll have lots of energy for Legoland. Maybe you should take a nap with your mama, too."

He shakes his head firmly. "No. I don't take naps."

"Ever?" Bella asks.

"Nope. My mama told Santa that all she wants for Christmas is for me to start taking naps."

Bella grins. She can imagine. This little guy is precocious.

"Have you ever been to Legoland?" Bella asks.

"No. It's my birthday treat and Mama says there's a big Lego store there, and I get to pick out my birthday present.

"You're going to love Legoland. It's so much fun!" Bella says enthusiastically.

"Are you going to Legoland, too?" Henry asks.

Just then Bella hears a gasp and Henry's mom rises out of her seat with a terrified expression.

"Henry!" she says. "You scared Mama. I didn't know where you were."

Henry drops his chin. "Sorry, Mama. I's just talking to Bella."

The woman makes an apologetic face as she looks at Bella. "I'm sorry. Was he bothering you? I didn't sleep well last night and I must have dozed off."

"Actually, I was enjoying the company," Bella says as she smiles at Henry.

"Can Bella come to Legoland with us?" Henry asks his mother.

"Oh, Henry, I don't think Bella wants to come to Legoland with us. It's for kids, not grown up people."

The words stir something up in Bella and it occurs to her that perhaps Legoland is exactly where she should go today.

"Actually I'm on an adventure, and I think that Legoland should be my destination."

"An adventure?" asks Henry. "Like a pirate adventure?"

"Sure, like a pirate. Did you know there's whole place for pirates at Legoland?" Bella asks.

Henry's mom shakes her head and laughs as he sputters and stomps his feet. "He's obsessed with pirates," she says softly to Bella with a wink.

Henry puts a hand over one eye and starts singing "Yo ho…" to himself.

"My son was, too," Bella replies. "I think little boys are genetically programmed to like pirates."

"So you're really going to Legoland?" she asks. "Because please don't change your plans on our account."

"I promise…I may not stay long but I'd really like to go. You know there's a part of the park called 'Miniland' where they have used Legos to recreate parts of the great cities and landmarks of the world. It's one of my favorite things ever, and it'll make me so happy to visit it again. My son is grown now so I haven't been there in quite a while."

"I'm Gina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Bella responds with a smile. "Hey, why don't we share a cab to the park?"

.

Two hours later, Gina and Bella set their trays on a table near the play-structure inside Legoland. Bella hadn't planned on tagging along through lunch with the duo, but she and Gina hit it off and are enjoying sharing stories. Henry seems happy to have another person join their little team, too.

During lunch they manage to charm Henry into eating half his hot dog and a few fries before he makes a mad dash for the rope ladder that leads to the swinging bridge.

Gina rolls her eyes. "That kid wears me out, I tell you. I can't keep up with him."

"I bet," says Bella. "He's got a lot of energy. Are you a single parent?"

"No, but I feel like one," Gina admits. "My husband's deployed in Iraq for six months this time. It's so sad not to have him here for Henry's big day. I've been having a hard time managing everything without him, so my in-laws paid for us to come out to stay with them for Henry's birthday."

"How nice," says Bella.

"Yes, but they both got the flu two days after we got here. They were supposed to come with us to Legoland, but there was no way they could. That's why we ended up on the train…I was too nervous to drive since I don't know the area. And besides, Henry really loves trains."

"Well good for you for coming anyway," Bella says encouragingly. "I was a single mom. And even though my mom helped so much, I still understand how lonely and hard it can get."

Gina looks over and sees that Henry is negotiating the captain's wheel with another kid about his age. She turns back to Bella. "Was your son's father involved at all?"

"No," Bella shakes her head. "Actually, he was never in the picture."

"Wow. Never? That really must've been hard." Gina looks down at Bella's hand looking for a ring. "You don't have a man in your life at all?"

"Well, I had a boyfriend. But he broke up with me recently."

"Oh no, I'm sorry. How recently?" Gina asks.

"A few days ago."

"That's awful. Did he find someone else?"

"No actually, we had an argument and he broke up with me for…" Bella pauses, not sure how to explain. "I guess you could say for philosophical reasons."

"For philosophical reasons?" asks Gina, looking bewildered.

Bella nods.

"Oh No. Did you love him?' she asks.

Bella sighs and nods again.

"Did he love you?"

"Like crazy."

"Was the sex good?" Gina presses.

"The best."

"Seriously? If you don't mind me asking, why in the world are you at Legoland? I wouldn't let a disagreement ruin a relationship if my man loved me like crazy and was good in bed! I know I'm missing my husband, but if I were you I'd go get that man and show him what he means to me."

Bella laughs. "I wish it were that simple."

Gina raises her eyebrows and gives Bella a look. "Why can't it be? My grandma used to say that a good romp in the hay can solve almost any problem."

.

Gina's comments weigh on Bella's mind as she and her new friends take a stroll through Miniland. To distract herself, Bella points out to Henry details about the miniature cities and landmarks. He excitedly runs from one area to the next, eventually deciding that he loves the impressive Lego recreation of New York City the best. Bella explains her favorite, New Orleans, where the tiny town is celebrating Mardi Gras. Gina shares that she loves the Eiffel Tower as it's always been her dream to go to Paris.

"You know, Henry, my son Jacob and I made a little version of our house after we went to Legoland the first time. What do you think you'll make?"

"Do pirates have houses?" he asks.

"Well they live on their ships most of the time. Maybe you could make a houseboat they keep docked at home," Bella suggests.

"So they always have a nice place to come back to," Gina adds, thinking about Henry's dad.

Bella watches Gina hug her son and she's hit with a wave of melancholy.

When they straighten up, Bella turns toward her new friend.

"You know, all of this makes me miss my son. I think I'll call him and then after, I should head back to the train."

"Oh no, you're leaving us?" Gina says sadly. "You've made this day so much better than I'd even hoped."

Bella smiles at her warmly. "That's so sweet. I appreciate how you welcomed me and I've loved getting to know you and Pirate Henry." Henry looks up at Bella with a smile.

"But it's good for you guys to have some time to yourselves."

Gina gives her new friend a warm smile.

Bella bends down and talks directly to Henry. "I hope you know how much I've enjoyed spending time with you and your mom, Henry. Thank you for sharing your birthday with me."

"You're welcome," he says, falling into her hug.

When they part an idea occurs to Bella, and she unzips her purse. "Hey, Henry, I have a little birthday gift for you."

"You do?" he asks, excited.

Pulling out the small bag from Olvera Street, she watches Henry open the bag and pull out one of the little animal figurines. "My son used to collect these. You can put them with your pirates in your Lego houseboat."

"Wow!" Henry exclaims. "Thank you, Bella!" He grins as he reaches into the bag to pull out another creature.

"You're very welcome. And as for you…" Bella says, standing and giving Gina a hug. "You're so awesome. Thank you for including me in your day with Henry."

Gina beams. "I'm so glad we met you, Bella. I think you're pretty awesome, too."

.

As mother and son walk away, hand in hand, Henry keeps turning back and waving with his free hand until they turn the corner headed to the boat ride and are no longer in sight.

Bella finds a bench to settle on, and pulls out her phone. Jacob picks up on the second ring.

"Hey Mom, how you doing?"

Bella smiles and sighs happily. It always makes her cheerful to hear his voice. "Hi, honey. You'll never guess where I am!"

Jacob laughs. "I have no idea. I don't know, the moon?"

She can almost see Jacob rolling his eyes playfully.

"Not even close," Bella responds. "I'm at Legoland! I'm sitting on a bench in Miniland and thinking of you."

"You're in Legoland? Why in the world are you there?"

"I felt like having an adventure today so I got on the train this morning and ended up here."

"Of course you did. Is Edward with you?"

Her heart thumps. "No. No Edward."

"Which reminds me," he continues. "Why haven't you sent me your dates and contact information for Italy yet? Aren't you leaving in a few days? I guess I'm going to have to call Edward and get it."

"No. Don't do that," she replies hastily.

Jacob pauses, sensing something's up. "Why not?"

"Well…he's not going to Italy."

"What do you mean he's not going to Italy? Why not?"

Bella's fingers tighten over the phone. "Um, something came up."

"Something came up?" Jacob sounds angry or maybe frustrated.

It reminds Bella of the talk that Jacob and Edward behind her back. She decides to not bring that up. This isn't the time to broach that discussion.

"Look, I don't want to get into all that right now. I just wanted to tell you that I'm at Legoland thinking of you and the good times we had here. Remember how much you loved the little cars and driving around the track? You would've done that all day if I'd let you."

"Yeah, I remember." Jacob laughs. "I think I still have all of my junior driver's licenses from those visits. Aren't they in that cigar box on my bookshelf?"

"I think so. We should look next time you're home. Hey, we can watch the videos I shot of you, too! I think I even saved a box of Legos in the garage."

Jacob's voice softens. "So you're at Legoland traveling down memory lane…everything okay, Mom?"

Bella sits up straighter as she considers his concern. Should she worry about herself? Is this disappointment with Edward causing her to act irrationally?

She remembers the last time Edward held her and how much love she felt for him…from him. She's filled with longing, realizing she may never get over her beautiful man, that no train ride will ever take her completely away from the idea of him.

Bella takes a deep breath. "I'm trying to be okay," Bella finally responds to her son.

"Oh, Mom," he says gently. "How are you getting home?"

"I'm taking the train back to Union Station, and then the subway into Hollywood, and then…"

"The subway into Hollywood! Are you kidding me? It'll be dark at that point. No way are you taking the subway alone at night into Hollywood."

"Stop being so dramatic, Jacob. I'll be fine. I'll just make some friends. I met the most lovely woman and her young son on the way out here and we shared a cab and spent part of the day together."

"You did that with complete strangers? Not helping, Mom. Look, text me with your train information and I'm going to arrange for someone to pick you up at Union Station."

"That isn't necessary!"

"Please don't argue with me over this," Jacob insists. "I'm going to do it so just do this for me. And don't leave one of your friends in a panic at the train station looking for you. Okay?"

"Who's the parent here?"

"Please, Mom," he begs.

"Oh, all right. You know I can't say no to you, sweetheart."

.

Bella mutters under her breath as she heads in the cab to the train station. How did she raise a boy who worries so much about everything? She supposes it's a reaction to some of her antics over the years. She always hoped he would be a free-spirit like she aspires to be. Instead, he became Mister Responsible.

Determined to show Jacob she hasn't gone nuts, she texts him her arrival information as soon as she's in her train seat. She settles in and takes a deep breath.

_What a day, s_he thinks to herself as she shakes her head and smiles.

She rakes her fingers over the upholstery as the train starts rumbling down the tracks. The view blurs past her window while she wonders what all of the events and encounters of her day have meant. She looks across her aisle and notices an older woman looking at her. Bella tries to imagine what the woman might think.

Can she tell that she's had an adventure?

Can she tell she has a broken heart?

Bella turns back to her window and tries her best to keep her chin up as the tears form. Maybe this is all too much, too soon. She thinks about the disappointment in Jacob's voice, him sensing something had happened to her and Edward. She ponders Gina's advice reminding her about what matters most. If she hadn't been so absolute in their fight initially maybe he would've been willing to stay and search for a compromise rather than just walking away.

She wonders what kind of manic energy caused her to do something so extreme today. Was she just trying to be distracted from her pain? Would it have been smarter to just stay at home and face her sadness head on and work through it?

She loved Edward like no other. It was a mature love, one of respect…one that sees we are imperfect yet still lovable. A love that knows we have rough edges and faulty parts, yet still are worth the effort. It was a great love.

He was her love…

…and angry words, and bitter disappointment doesn't change the fact; she knows the truth, without a doubt.

She loves him still.

.

..~*~..

.

Around four-thirty the phone rings and Edward answers it as soon as he sees who's calling. He can't avoid feeling a sense of dread.

"Hey, Jacob," he says immediately. "Everything okay?"

"I don't know. You tell me," Jacob answers. "Mom off-handedly mentioned that you aren't going to Italy with her. What's up with that?"

Edward pauses, relieved nothing bad seems to have happened, and annoyed at being questioned by Bella's absent son.

"Why don't you ask your mom," Edward suggests with a sigh.

"I already have. She changed the subject. Maybe she would have answered if she wasn't so distracted."

"Distracted?"

"Yeah, calling me from Legoland and all. What the hell was that about anyway? Can you tell me why she just got on a train, met some strangers, and spent the day with them at Legoland? That's a little manic, even for Mom."

"Legoland?" Edward asks, not hiding the shock in his voice. "Why'd she go to Legoland?"

"The hell if I know. That was one of the reasons I'm calling you. I'm worried about her. Believe me, I wouldn't call if I wasn't concerned."

Edward begins to compute what Jacob is telling him, and wonders what's going on with Isabella.

"Why _else_ are you calling me?" Edward asks. "You said it was one of the reasons."

"Yes, I want to know if you can pick her up at the Union Station downtown when her train arrives in a few hours. She has the crazy idea she'll get off the train, take the subway into Hollywood, and then the bus to Hancock Park, but she appears to have no clue what a bad idea that is. A woman alone at night in those crappy areas…damn! I wish I were there right now."

Edward's mind reels at the idea of Isabella in those circumstances alone on dark, risky streets. She'd probably chat up a psycho, think he's charming, and offer to bring him home to shoot his picture or something. He starts to panic.

"No, she can't do that. She needs to be picked up right at the train platform."

"Yes, Yes," Jacob agrees with a sigh of relief. "So you'll go?"

There's a long pause as Edward realizes he has no choice. With these circumstances, he has to tell him the truth. "I can't go. She won't want me to. We broke up, Jacob."

"What? You broke up? But I thought…"

"It didn't work out," Edward says with a neutral voice.

"But she's crazy about you. She told me just last week that she's never been in love like this before. How could things fall apart in one week? I don't understand."

_How could things fall apart in minutes…seconds?_ Edward thinks to himself.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but you're going to have to talk to your mom about this."

"But you told me you weren't going to abandon her."

"I didn't," Edward says, trying to hold back the frustration.

"It sure sounds that way to me. Damn, I can't believe this. She was so happy."

It's painful for Edward to see Jacob so full of concern for his mom.

"So you're sure you won't go get her? I bet that would mean a lot to Mom, you showing up to look out for her."

Edward's heart constricts hearing this son want so much for his mom to be okay, to be protected. He wishes things were different and that it was him going to get her, not Leah, Angela, Michael, or one of her other many friends Jacob can reach out to.

It also occurs to him that with his and Bella's relationship over, he'll never get to know Jacob better…watch a football game with him at Thanksgiving, or join in when Isabella and her son tease each other.

Edward swallows and closes his eyes in pain. "Sorry man, just take my word for it…she wouldn't want me there."

.

..~*~..

.

The exhaustion starts to hit Bella when the train finally pulls into Union Station. As she disembarks, she'd almost forgotten that someone would be there waiting for her, and she's silently relieved to see that Angela's the one who agreed to come.

"Bella!" Angela yells out, as she waves and moves toward her friend.

Bella steps forward and gives her a warm hug. "Thanks for coming to get me, Angela. I take it Jacob twisted your arm."

"Well, he did make things sound rather dire, but truly, Bella, I was more than happy to come get you." She loops her arm though her friend's and starts leading her to the exit. "So now, what's this about you taking the train to Legoland?"

Bella grins, knowing her reputation for being a colorful character is now indisputable. "Yes, well…" she says happily as her cheeks blush, "I woke up this morning and decided to have an adventure."

"Really?" Angela asks. "Just like that?"

"Yup," replies Bella with great satisfaction. "Actually, when I headed out this morning my only intention was to have breakfast on Olvera Street, but then I got this idea to walk through the train station…"

"And you then just randomly decided to get on a train?" Angela asks, laughing.

"Yeah, pretty much like that," Bella responds.

"Are you getting geared up for your big Italy trip or something?" Angela asks. "Because that adventurous spirit will be well utilized there."

Bella smiles at her friend. "That's part of it. And you know, I just needed today to be different in every way. A departure, if you will."

"Well, it sounds like you achieved your objective then." Angela studies her. "Are you hungry? I've eaten, but I'd be happy to sit with you if you want some dinner."

"I'm fine, thanks. I'm actually really tired so I think I'll go to bed early tonight."

They climb into Angela's car in the short-term parking and as they buckle their seat belts, Angela chuckles.

"What?" Bella asks, grinning as she turns toward her friend.

"Sometimes I really wish I were more like you, Bella. So carefree…you just have this great spirit. I truly think that the world would be a better place if everyone was more like you."

"Really?" asks Bella, incredibly flattered.

"Yes!" exclaims Angela. "You know, you don't just let life happen to you, you take life by the horns and ride it for all it's got. You're fearless."

"Well, I don't know if I'd say fearless," Bella says. "I have things I'm afraid of."

"But a lot of times it's the simple fears that stop people in their tracks. Like I remember when you told me about hearing this wonderful music in your backyard and that you were going to find out who played it."

Bella smiles sadly at the memory.

"Next thing I know you've not only found the guy, but convinced him to play for you. Right? You didn't let your fear of rejection stop you from trying to meet him."

"Yes, that's right," agrees Bella, trying to sound light-hearted.

"And then just weeks later he's completely under your spell. I swear, that man is so in love with you."

"Really?" Bella asks, her curiosity overcoming her sense. She imagines another time before they fell apart, when she was still his sun and moon. She doubts he loves her anymore, but it feels good to believe it again, if only for a moment.

"Oh my, yes," Angela says. "He must have texted me ten times tonight to make sure I was picking you up and bringing you home. He was very persistent about it. You know, now that I think of it, he didn't mention where he is. Is he out of town or something?"

Bella fumbles, still stuck on the idea that Edward was worried about her getting home. Jacob must have called him. "Um, yeah. I mean I'm pretty sure he had an important meeting this evening."

"Yes, I knew it was something like that," Angela says. "He was really intent on getting you home safely. It was sweet. That man really loves you, Bella."

Bella's heart swells. She can't help it; her rays of hope are multiplying with each moment passing. "He's really something, isn't he, Angela?"

"Yes, he surely is," she says.

.

.

That night in bed, Bella gazes at his framed picture next to her bed. In the dim lamp light she can barely make out the details of the picture, but the way he looked at her during that shoot still takes her breath away.

"Oh, Edward," she says aloud, sighing softly.

"I miss you," she says, a tear working its way down her cheek.

"I bet you miss me, too. I bet you didn't mean all of those awful things you said to me. You've just been left too many times by the ones you love…you couldn't bear to be left by me too." She frowns and brushes away the tear. "I know I didn't listen enough and consider that we could find a compromise. And although I may have in the moment felt all those awful things I wrote about you after our phone call, they were more of an expression of my rage from our fight. They don't define how I'll always feel about you inside my heart."

"I still love you," she whispers.

She fights the urge to call him, to drive over and show up on his front door step. She would force him to speak, to let go of the bravado and talk to her until the sun rose. Talk until they had figured out how to build a bridge that soared high over their fears.

She struggles with her thoughts, madly trying to figure out how to get through to him. Finally, the idea comes to her, clear as polished glass.

_Give him time, _her inner voice whispers.

_Give him time._

.

..~*~..

.

Two days later, Edward walks through Esme's Place to check on the contractor's work. The emptiness of the place is hard for him to take. The last time he stood in the mural room, Bella was with him.

He looks over at the beginnings of the artwork. Bella was more excited about the possibilities for the center than even he was. Her energy lit up the place. Now it feels desperately lonely, and all he wants to do is leave.

A number of the rehearsal rooms are finished and he examines them one by one. Other than some touch up details, he's satisfied with how the work's being done.

He hears the front door close and then someone call out, "Edward?"

Stepping out of the room, he looks for Rose. "Hey, you," he says, finding her in the main room. He gives her a hug. "Thanks for coming out to see the progress."

"Are you kidding? I'm excited about what's going on here. I'm happy to come." She turns toward the wall and studies the line work that's been laid out in preparation for painting.

"So that jpeg you sent me of the mural art, this is it, right?" Rose asks.

"Yes," Edward replies, nodding. "She's going to start layering in the color next week."

"That is going to add a lot to this space. You guys have gotten so much done already. I'm really impressed."

"Well, we're hoping to have it done in time for the fundraiser. We're going to have a video and pictures of the place to show that night."

"Great idea. How are the plans for the event coming? Are you getting a good response? I know Emmett is getting his partners and associates to come."

"Well, Alice is really managing the event, but she's excited by the response. She calls me several times a day with updates."

"I bet. Alice puts two-hundred percent effort behind things she cares about. There's no way the evening won't be huge."

.

They continue to walk through the space talking both about the work that's been done, and what's yet to come. They end up in Esme's old office and Rose turns to Edward.

"Hey, are you feeling okay? You're looking pale and you seem kind of down."

Edward turns and looks away, but he can't hide things from Rose.

"Look, I don't want to push, but aren't you leaving on your big trip in a couple of days?" Rose asks. "You don't want to be sick when you travel."

Edward grimaces. "Actually, I'm not going on the trip." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Isabella and I broke up a few days ago."

"Oh no," Rose gasps. "You broke up? What happened?" She reaches out for the folding chair that's set up next to the makeshift desk the contractor has been using. As she sits down, Edward leans against the wall and rubs his face with his hands.

"Wait a minute!" Rose says. "This isn't about Lauren is it? When I talked to Alice, she told me that she's getting involved with the fundraiser."

Edward looks at her and tries to imagine what's she's thinking.

"…because I'm sorry, but you know I'm going to not be at all happy if you broke up with Bella to go back to Lauren."

Edward holds up his hand. "No, this has nothing to do with Lauren."

"Thank God," Rose exhales a sigh of relief. "What is it, then?"

"It all started with something I found at her house. Are you sure you want to hear all about this? It isn't pretty."

Rose points to the other folding chair and looks at her watch. "I don't have to get the kids until three. Have a seat. I'm all ears."

Edward flips the chair around so he's straddling the seat and leans his folded arms across the backrest. He slowly walks her through the entire nightmare: finding the pill bottle, their resulting argument, the misinterpretation of their make-up sex, all leading to the final scene where she vows she won't back down and he does the same.

Rose remains quiet, listening with a concerned look on her face. She even holds her comments while Edward talks about how he shoved all the Italy information in an envelope and pushed it through her mail slot. After he finishes describing their last phone call, and then his call from Jacob, she speaks up.

"You told her you didn't care what she did in Italy? You told her she was none of your concern now?" Rose looks horrified. "Please tell me you didn't say that?"

"I did," Edward admits. "I was really mad, Rose."

"And how old are you? This is something a boy would say after his girl kissed another boy at the prom." She shakes her head with disappointment.

"Hey, that's not fair," he protests.

"Seriously, Edward. Bella was forced by circumstances to tell you about a haunting decision she's made for herself. I'm sure it's not a decision she made lightly. It was done out of a fear I can't even comprehend. And this is how you handled it?"

Edward has fire in his eyes when he looks up at his sister. He can't believe she's defending Bella's decision.

"She all but told me that my feelings in this didn't matter. Her mind was made up. How the hell am I supposed to feel about that?"

Rose places her hands on the folding table. "See, the problem is this is a very black and white decision. There's no in-between compromise. So I'm not sure what you expect her to say. It sounds like she either does what you want—accept the disease if she gets it, and let you take care of her-_if_ you stick with her. Or you do it her way; let her move on while she can still make that choice."

Rose shivers as she sits quietly for a moment thinking.

"She's proud, Edward. She wants to be remembered as Bella-the bright light. She's a person whose smile and charm make people want to follow her like the Pied Piper. She doesn't want to be _that_ person-the one who's wheeled around and fed baby food. Can you really blame her?"

Edward looks at her, stunned by the wretched visual.

Rose slaps her hands down on the table. "You know what? Good for her, I say! You might be willing to change her diapers one day, but she doesn't want it…not a single minute of it. That isn't who Bella is."

Edward dips his head, finally hearing some of what he's been fighting to accept.

Rose watches him and a moment later picks up again.

"Look, I get it. You're angry, really really angry. Our mom died because she was too busy taking care of Dad to notice she was getting sick. Our dad took his own life without including you because he couldn't bear what his life had become. Your wife left you, screwing you over in your time of need. You have a lot to be angry about, but Bella isn't it."

She shakes her head and folds her arms over her chest.

"Because what you're telling me is that long before she met you, she put a pill bottle on her mantle that gave her comfort. She didn't do this_ to_ you. It isn't about you, and your relationship was still too new to sort through this kind of issue. Don't you think?"

Edward shrugs, unconvinced.

"Unfortunately, you finding the bottle like you did forced you guys to deal with it too early. That pill bottle was put up there knowing she had to have a plan. Is this a good time for me to mention that I think that's a kick ass idea? I knew I liked that woman."

"How in the hell can you say that after what Dad did to us."

"Has it occurred to you that Dad may have been thinking that making his own choice about dying was good for us, too. I know you'll never see it that way, but we were all broken over his disease. Look what you gave up to take care of him? Try to understand that I was sick with guilt that I couldn't do more for him. Yes, I lived all the way in Manhattan Beach and had three small kids, but I feel horrible that I wasn't there for him every day like you were."

"Don't say that. You did what you could Rose," Edward urges, his voice pained.

"But Dad was a proud man, Edward. He hated being so weak, depending on all of us just to live the most meager existence. He didn't want that for himself. Can't you see that?"

"It still doesn't make it right to me. It's not natural," Edward says.

"It's hard to say what is 'natural' anymore. Advanced medical care has allowed us to live longer than we would have naturally. But what comes along with that sometimes are these slow, degenerating deaths."

Edward lets his head fall down as he thinks about everything.

"Can I ask you?" Rose says in a soft voice. "Would you want Bella to take care of you if you ended up like that? Because I sure as hell don't want Emmett or the kids to be doing that for me."

"No, I don't want that, but sometimes that's just what ends up happening. We can never know."

"No, we can't," she agrees, her expression suddenly shifting. "So I guess you're smart with your big plan."

"What do you mean plan?" he asks.

Rose makes a face and then nods. "Yeah. I think you're actually wise to dump Bella like this. Who needs her and her problems? Years from now we'll all say, 'Bella who?'"

His head snaps up and he glares at his sister. "Rose," he warns.

Rose puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes.

"Oh, don't be mad. Come on! She's no big deal. You can easily go find another Bella. Right? Women like that are a dime a dozen. Why are we even wasting our time talking about her?"

"Oh Jesus, Rose, quit fucking with me."

"I mean it. I'm over her. I'll never bring her up again," she pushes in a taunting voice.

This isn't the first time Rose has challenged Edward with reverse psychology, but this time she's crossed a line.

Edward jumps off his chair, picks it up, and then slams it back on the ground. "Stop it!" he yells, before storming out of the room.

She charges after him.

"What? What?" she yells back.

He turns back at her, enraged. "Don't you dare tease me and say she doesn't matter. I loved that woman, Rose. She fucking brought me back to life. She's the most amazing person I've ever known, so just don't…"

"You lov_ed_ her?" Rose asks with an emphasis on the past tense.

"Ahhh," Edward yells. "Okay, I love her. I LOVE HER. Damn it!"

His voice chokes up with frustration.

"I'm sure I always will," he says lowly. "No one ever came close to making me feel the way she does."

Rose walks over to Edward and grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

"Then figure this out, brother. Don't you dare walk away from her," she says.

"What do I do, Rose?" Edward drags his fingers through his hair in frustration. "_What_…do I do?"

He looks down at his sister and sees every wheel in her head madly spinning.

"When's that flight to Italy?" she asks.

"Day after tomorrow," he answers, shaking his head and feeling hopeless. "I wish we had more time so we could try to talk."

"You know, Edward, talking really doesn't have to take that long. You're making everything too complicated."

He slaps his hand against the wall.

"Can you give me a break here? Just tell me exactly what you think I should do. Please, I'm a man…just spell it out for me."

"You're willing to do the work? You're willing to compromise?"

"Yes, yes!" he answers, surprised to realize he finally _is _really willing to do whatever it takes.

She looks off into the distance and then smiles. "You know," she says happily. "Italy is a very romantic place. It's a wonderful place to work things out and get closer. Do you still have your plane ticket?"

He takes a deep breath, realizing what she's suggesting. "I'd have to check with the airline to see if I can get my seat back. It was business class so that helps."

"Okay, call them as soon as you get home. After that, you need to focus on getting your head on straight. You need to figure out what you want to say to her. It'd be good to try to talk to her tomorrow. Do you think she'll be willing to see you?"

"I don't know. She sounded really done with me when I was such as ass about Italy."

Rose folds her arms over her chest, reaches up, and taps her fingers over her chin.

"In that case, you may need to rely on the element of surprise. She can't avoid talking to you if you're sitting next to her on a long plane ride."

"Oh, that sounds really risky," Edward worries aloud.

"Do you think you think you have a choice? Do you really want her to go to Italy without you?"

Edward thinks about the ex-lover, Leonard, and shakes his head firmly. "No."

"Okay, then," Rose drills. "What are you going to do?"

Edward stands up straight and clears his throat.

"I'm going to get my head on straight, get on that damn plane…"

"Yes?" Rose asks, her voice rising dramatically.

Inspired, Edward pumps his fist in the air with determination. "…and get my woman!"

Rose smiles triumphantly.

"Now that's what I want to hear!"

.  
.

* * *

.

_Thanks so much for sticking with me. How are you feeling about things now?  
_

_xoxo abbie_

_Lots of good stuff on the FB page-check it out. If you "Like" the page, you'll get alerts. Facebook dot com slash abstractway_


	20. Chapter 20 The Neighborhood

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty / The Neighborhood **

.

Edward paces back and forth under the colored flags strung across his loft. He doesn't know exactly what to say to Isabella, he just knows he needs to see her. His talk with Rose has given him a lot to consider. Despite the disappointment and anger he's harbored since their fight, as the days have passed he's missed Bella more, instead of less. Somehow, some way, he needs to have her in his life again.

Can they figure out a way to agree to disagree about such a huge issue? Can he live with the uncertainty that compromise would present?

He opens up a bottle of water and takes a swig as he mulls over what his next step should be. A moment later, his phone rings.

.

"Yes?"

"Edward," says Sean. "I got your message. What's up?"

"Hey, Sean, it looks like I may be going to Italy after all, so we need to reschedule the walk-thru I was going to give you guys of the center."

"Okay," Sean replies.

"It's looking really good by the way," Edward adds.

"I'm glad to hear it. No problem with rescheduling. That's great you're going to Italy."

"Yeah, I'm really trying to work this out. You know I could show you and Julia the space tomorrow late morning since I don't leave until the next day. Does that work for you two?"

"I'm not sure. I told Julia that I'd help her play music tomorrow at her great Uncle Will's place. It's one of those assisted living facilities. Let me check with her about the timing."

His comment sparks an idea in Edward's head. "Is that like an old people's home?"

"Yeah. I've been there before. It's pretty nice actually once you get past the idea that it's full of people waiting to die."

"Do you happen to know if they have people with Alzheimer's there?"

"Yeah, we played in that part of the building once. It's sectioned off and it's got locks and alarms on the doors. I guess those people are known to wander off and stuff."

_Locks and alarms?_ Edward feels a wave of anxiety. "Really?" he asks.

"Yeah," confirms Sean. "That was a tough scene…really sad. Most of those people seemed so gone, like they didn't even know where they were."

Edward shuts his eyes and tries to push the pictures out of his head, but he knows he has to fight his resistance. He has to face his worst fears.

"Hey, Sean, can I go with you guys tomorrow?"

"Really? Are you checking out places for a relative or something? Cause Julia says that as far as they go, this one's pretty nice, but it's crazy expensive. Will is burning through his money fast living there."

He swallows hard. "That's okay if it's expensive. Yeah, I'm just checking things out for someone."

"I'm sure it'll be fine if you come. I'll confirm the time we're meeting and email the address," Sean says.

Edward takes a deep breath. "Thanks."

.

..~*~..

.

That evening, he picks up his phone to call Isabella at least ten times before setting it back down, frustrated. He knows he needs to be prepared before he talks to her again, and he can't get past the concern that he's going to mess things up and make them worse.

He pulls open his patio door, grabs his guitar, and settles into the chair. As he looks out at the scattered lights dotting his hillside view he softly strums. He remembers the first time he played for Isabella and the way she danced across her yard. He likes to imagine now that she was dancing _for_ him, so that with each swing of her hips, each swirl of her skirt, she was pulling him in.

Despite their fight and separation, his passion for her still owns him. It's bigger than anything he's ever felt in his life. His feelings pour out in the music, his hand clutching the neck of his guitar as he adeptly fingers the chords.

He sings the lyrics he's already written for her, and then works out others as he plays, stopping periodically to make notes on the pad on the nearby table.

As he plays, he imagines her in his arms, the way it makes him feel more alive, more hopeful about everything. He misses that feeling and knows he's empty without it.

.

Later that night before he surrenders to sleep, he also imagines her with him in his bed. The feel of her lips pressing against his neck as he eases into her, the way her legs slowly wrap around his.

_Isabella._

Every thing about her intoxicates him. He loves her low moans when he pushes deep. He recalls a moment once where he suddenly looked down at her, worried from his force. She gazed at him with hooded eyes full of fire. Her cheeks flushed as she gave him the most delicious smile and whispered…

_Give me more. Come on my love, you could never hurt me like this._

Now, he wonders. He wishes he had been more tender the night of their big fight.

He remembers the desperate way they made love last, and he's filled with shame. That night of all nights, he should have made slow, sweet love to her…carried her into her bed and showed her what was in his heart. Instead, he crawled over her on the couch and took her powerfully. He needed assurances to know that she wouldn't leave him, but he wishes he could have been a stronger man.

His self-loathing from his volatile behavior that night is hard to swallow as he closes his eyes. But when the tide pulls him down, he thinks of Isabella and her loving smile, and he surfaces, again and again.

.

..~*~..

.

As Edward approaches the front entrance to Belmont Village the next morning, he notices the chairs lined up on the patio are filled with old people. A couple of them are talking, one is reading the paper, but the one on the end, a silver-haired woman with twisted arthritic hands, smiles sweetly at him.

He nods his head and smiles back, wondering what they're all waiting for. Then it hits him—_this is what they do._ They wait for dinner, for bed, for breakfast, for the visit from their kids. They wait, hoping that when their time is up, they will close their eyes and quietly leave this world, and their waiting will finally be done.

Years from now, will he be the one out here waiting? Will Isabella be locked up inside? The very idea of it makes him incredibly sad.

.

At the front desk, the receptionist directs him towards the main room where Sean and Julia are setting up.

Sean looks up and nudges Julia just as he approaches.

"Look, Julia, Edward's here."

"Hey guys," Edward says. "Thanks for letting me tag along."

"No problem," Julia responds. "And if I can share any information about this place, Edward, just let me know."

"Thanks," Edward says as he looks at their set up. "What kind of stuff do you play here anyway?"

"Mainly old classics. It's what they like. My great uncle, Will, was the person who exposed me to music when I was young, so this really means a lot to him when we perform here."

"She's like a celebrity here. All the old men flirt with her," Sean teases. "We've heard her uncle brags about her shamelessly at dinner."

Edward grins. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Julia admits. "He's such a big teddy bear. Look at him sitting over there surrounded by women. He's a catch in this place, you know."

"I can imagine," Edward says, smiling as he watches Will chat up the silver-haired beauty next to him.

"See, check it out," Sean says, turning to wave his arm behind them. "We already almost have a full house."

Edward turns to see almost every free chair full and caregivers pushing wheelchairs into the room to get a place.

"Well, I better go get a seat while I still can," Edward says, smiling. "Can I do anything to help first?"

"Nah, we got it covered. Thanks," Sean says.

.

Edward finds a free seat along the back wall next to a hunched over old man holding the hand of a withered-looking woman parked in a wheelchair next to him. Edward notes that she looks disoriented, but the man seems very alert and he turns to study Edward.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, young man. Have I?" he asks Edward, his shaggy eyebrows knit together.

"No, I've never been here before. I'm friends with the musicians and I wanted to check out this place."

"I see," replies the man. "Well, my name is Andrew, and this is my wife, Gracie." Edward turns toward Gracie, but she doesn't even glance at him. She looks lost in her own world. "She doesn't talk anymore," Andrew states matter-of-factly.

"Nice to meet you, Andrew. I'm Edward. Have you lived here long?"

"Oh, I don't live here. Gracie's in the 'Neighborhood' here. I just come and stay with her during the day."

"Every day?" Edward asks, surprised. The old man looks frail to take on such a schedule.

"Yes, unless I'm sick or something. Gracie took care of me and our kids for all those years. The least I can do is take care of her." He pats his hand over hers and looks at her lovingly. "She needs me."

Edward nods and starts to ask him something else, but the music starts up and so they turn forward.

Sean and Julia play a medley of 1940's songs-everything from The Andrew Sisters to Bing Crosby to the Jimmy Dorsey orchestra. The caregivers pass out lyric books printed in large size type so people can sing along. The residents look happy as they listen, tapping their feet and bobbing their head to the music.

Edward watches Julia work the crowd. Taking the hands of the old ladies and flirting with the old men, she's charming them, bringing back happy memories of better days. He imagines that it's probably the best time they've had all week. He notices how Julia makes sure and spends extra time with Uncle Will, who grins from ear to ear.

Four or five songs in, Edward notices that Gracie is starting to move her arms in a waving motion. Andrew's smiling happily. "She loves this music," he says quietly to Edward, leaning in close.

It's all good until the next song, a Glenn Miller piece, where Gracie starts grunting to the music. As Julia hits the chorus, Gracie's making quite a racket. Embarrassed, Andrew looks for a caregiver to help him move Gracie back to the neighborhood.

"Can I do something for you?" Edward asks, when he realizes Andrew isn't getting assistance and is growing very frustrated.

"I just need help with the wheelchair," he says anxiously. "She's only going to get louder, but I can't do this alone. I'm not strong enough anymore."

"Let me help you," Edward offers.

"You don't mind?" Andrew asks, looking grateful.

"No, not at all. Just tell me where to go."

Edward looks over at Sean, who nods with understanding as he sees Edward head out of the room pushing the wheelchair, Andrew hobbling along side him.

Once they get into the hallway Andrew sighs. "They say it's fine if I bring Gracie out to hear the music with the regular folks, as long as I take her out if she gets too loud. Today was one of those days."

"I'm sorry," Edward says sadly.

"Oh, I get why it's not good. It makes people really uncomfortable. If she understood what was happening, she'd stop. Gracie wouldn't want to upset anyone," he replies.

When they get to the locked door, Andrew carefully uses the keypad to deactivate the alarm so they can go inside. Once in the main hall, he points to a big table in the center of the room.

"If you can just push her over to the table, Edward, I'd really appreciate it. Then I'll let you out the door again."

"Would you mind if I stay for a few minutes?" Edward asks.

"Sure, be my guest," Andrew answers. They approach the table and Andrew points to the two empty chairs next to Gracie. Edward pulls them out and once Andrew sits down, Edward joins him.

He looks up to see one of the workers at the head of the table. The middle-aged woman with the kind face nods at Edward.

"Hello," she says, smiling widely as she catches a balloon floating towards her.

"Hi," Edward responds.

"So, Andrew, is this handsome guy your son?" she asks.

He chuckles. "No, Estelle, he's a friend."

"Well, welcome," she says before she turns back to the group. "Okay everyone, let's continue with balloon time."

She holds up the large green balloon and gently hits it towards one of the more alert looking residents. The woman swats the balloon when it approaches her and it flies to the opposite side of the table where it hits another woman, with closely cropped white hair and thick glasses, right in the face. She doesn't even blink. The balloon rolls off to the side and the old man next to her picks it up and wraps his arms around it.

"Okay, Charlie. Can you hit the balloon to Betty?" Estelle urges.

He clings to the balloon, refusing to let go of it.

"Come on, Charlie! Let's keep the game going? Hit it, please."

He bends over the balloon like he's protecting it. Noticing the issue, a second caregiver approaches and distracts Charlie with a small red ball long enough for the lead woman to pull the green balloon out of his lap.

"Okay, I think we're done with balloon time," she announces in a tired voice before glancing at her watch. "Let's start coloring a little early today."

She lays out baskets of thick crayons and then walks around, placing what looks like Xerox copies of coloring book pages in front of everyone. The two old women next to Edward start in right away and are careful to color within the lines. Some of the others either sit silently and unmoving in their chairs, or some color haphazardly with no regard to being inside the lines at all.

As Edward watches everything, he can't get past the idea that no one seems offended that much like the balloon pass, this is a preschool activity. Adults seemingly in their seventies and eighties are being treated like babies. He can't even imagine their humiliation. Yet as he studies their faces one by one, he doesn't see any discomfort, just determination to complete their task. What kind of alternate universe is this?

He leans forward and watches Andrew coax Gracie. His hand's resting over hers as he slowly guides the crayon over the paper. "See, Gracie," he says softly. "The dog is brown just like our Daisy was."

Edward feels like his heart's going to shatter. It's almost more than he can take.

Andrew looks up and notices Edward watching them. "She used to love to color. She'd fill every space, but now…well, I have to help her."

Edward nods as Andrew focuses back on the coloring, speaking softly to Gracie as they work. When they get a few areas roughly filled in, he leans back to rest and drops his hands on his lap.

He sighs. "Some days she's better than others. Yesterday I could've sworn she recognized me."

"I bet she did," Edward says encouragingly. He'd say anything to ease this man's suffering and heartbreak. "How long has she lived here, Andrew?"

"Almost two years," Andrew answers sadly. "I hated to leave her here. I took care of her at home as long as I could, but the kids finally stepped in. They said it was killing me."

"Oh no," Edward says. "That's no good, Andrew. You've got to take care of yourself or you're no good for Gracie."

"That's what the kids say," Andrew replies, as he rubs the top of Gracie's hand. "They said she's only going to get worse, and they were right about that. She hasn't said anything that makes sense in months. She hardly talks at all anymore and she was such a chatterbox before." He leans over and kisses her cheek, then runs his hand over her head.

"Did any of the medicines help her?" Edward asks.

"Nah, not really. But I'm never giving up on my girl."

Edward silently studies them, the devotion in Andrew's eyes and the absence of spirit in Gracie's. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe. He needs to get away from all of this.

He reaches over and rests his hand on Andrew's shoulder. "I've got to go meet my friends, Andrew. But I want to thank you for letting me hang out with you and Gracie for a while."

As they shake hands, Andrew gives him a sad smile. "No, thank you, young man. I enjoyed the company. It gets really lonely here sometimes."

.

One of the caregivers lets Edward out the door, and he numbly walks down the hall towards the main room where he finds Sean and Julia tearing down their equipment.

"I thought we were gonna have to send out a search," Sean teases when he sees him.

"Yeah, sorry about that. That old man that I was sitting next to, his name's Andrew…we started talking."

"Did you get to see what you wanted to?" asks Julia. "'cause we're almost done here, I can show you around if you want."

"No, I saw all I needed to. Thanks though. I learned a lot from just being here."

Sean looks at his friend and can tell something's gotten to Edward, but he decides to leave it alone. They've already agreed to have beers after his trip, they can talk about it then if Edward needs someone to lend an ear.

.

.

A short while later, when Edward pulls his stool toward the bar, it occurs to him that he's been so deep in thought that he doesn't even remember driving to Jasper and Alice's place. Jasper flips the top off the Guinness and slides it to Edward without even asking what he wants.

"What happened to you, man?" Jasper asks, shaking his head. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Edward takes a long swig and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "I did. I saw a bunch of ghosts and it scared the hell out of me." He drops his head into his hand, defeated. "You know what. Can you get me a shot of Jameson?"

"Okay, then," Jasper says, watching Edward carefully as he pulls a clean shot glass off the stack and fills it.

Edward kicks back the shot and Jasper pours him another with a look of concern on his face.

"It must've been bad, dude. You gonna tell me where you saw these ghosts?"

"At one of those old people's homes over on Highland Avenue," Edward says before cooling the burn in his throat with more beer.

"Really? Anyone you know? What were you doing there?"

"I was seeing my potential future, Jasper, and it was pretty hard to take."

"Not good, huh?" Jasper asks, leaning against the bar with his arms folded.

"No, matter of fact it gutted me." His frustration is stirring up a fury inside of him. Edward clenches his fists and presses them into the rough wood surface of the bar. He'd like to punch a wide hole through it.

"Sorry to hear that, man," Jasper says. "I always liked that song, _The Future's So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades_. Maybe that won't be your theme song. Am I right?"

"No, it won't. Not if things go a certain way," Edward agrees. He's ready for his second beer even though he's had too much too fast already. He just wants to be as numb as possible, as quickly as possible.

.  
An hour later, he's mumbling to Jasper about flying to Italy.

"But I thought you guys broke up," Jasper asks, confused.

"We did," Edward agrees. "I'm going to convince her to take me back."

"You're going to do this on an airplane?" Jasper sounds like he thinks it's a dubious plan. "Hey, wait a minute. I thought_ you_ broke up with _her_?"

"Semantics," Edward grumbles. "Hey, my buzz is almost completely worn off. Give me another."

"Nope. You're done. Especially if you're flying tomorrow."

He pours Edward a tall glass of water. "Here, drink this. You're going to need your wits about you to win Bella back."

"You know what, Jasper?"

"What?"

"Maybe I just need my own bottle of pills. Yeah, that's it. I can put it next to hers, so if she goes so do I."

Jasper looks angry. "What in the fuck are you talking about?"

Edward waves his hand sloppily. "Never mind. I didn't mean it."

"You better not have meant it, man. That shit isn't funny. You know I had a friend who killed himself."

Edward sits up, suddenly feeling completely sober. He realizes he needs to watch what he says before he hurts people he cares about. Isn't that how he got into this mess in the first place?

"I'm really sorry, Jasper. I didn't mean it, I swear. Damn, I'm a mess. Today really did a number on me."

Jasper looks at him and lets out a long sigh. "Okay, Edward. Sure."

.

..~*~..

.

Bella nervously packs, determined not to forget anything. She remembers getting to San Francisco once without a single pair of panties. It may be harder in Lucca, Italy to just run out and buy more of whatever she's forgotten.

She decides to pack Jacob's photo album in her carry-on in case the luggage gets lost. The album is by far the most precious thing she's taking.

She wonders about Leo. Will he be glad to see her? How will it feel to see him after all this time? Will she see Jacob in his face, his mannerisms?

Her memory of him is a mirage now, shimmering in the far reaches of her mind. She's not even sure her idea of him exists anywhere but in her imagination.

Her head spins with a myriad of possibilities, making her feel scattered. If only Edward were coming, too. He'd have grounded her, helping her summon her courage. He also would've comforted her if the news about Jacob didn't go over well.

She lets out a long sigh as she walks over to her bedside table and picks up the framed picture of Edward.

"I wish you were coming with me, Mr. C," she says softly as she runs her fingers over the frame.

She studies his picture for a minute, remembering the night she photographed him. It was the night they finally admitted their love for each other…a moment she will never forget.

She steps forward to set the picture back, but then pauses and turns back to her suitcase. With a smile on her face, she carefully undoes the long zipper and lifts the lid, searching for the softest spot of clothes she can bury his picture in. She wraps and nestles it carefully, then lowers the cover to zip it shut again.

"See there, Mr. C," she whispers as she pats the suitcase. "You're coming with me after all."

.

..~*~..

.

Bella's heart pounds as she makes her way through the airport, the bustle of people a blur swirling around her. The morning was melancholy knowing she was taking this trip without Edward, but she gave herself a pep talk and by the time the shuttle service picked her up, she was feeling upbeat again. Her shuttle driver going on about how amazing Italy is amped her up even more.

By the time she gets to the airport, she wants to share her excitement with strangers. She notices a friendly-faced man in a Hawaiian shirt and wants to tell him about her trip-her greatest adventure of all. She's never felt so alive.

When she approaches the female guard in the security line, she grins as she hands over her passport and ticket.

"I'm going to Italy! Can you believe it?"

The serious looking woman arches her brows at Bella. "Well, I better believe it since that's what it says on your ticket."

"I can hardly wait," Bella says happily. She gives the guard a smile and heads over to the scanning area.

.

It barely seems like Bella has time to buy some gum and photography magazines at the newsstand when it's time to board the plane. She gets to leisurely stroll aboard with the fancy people since Edward had purchased business class tickets.

_Wow!_ she thinks as she settles into her oversized leather seat.

After boarding's almost complete, the steward reminds everyone over the loudspeaker to store their carry-ons, and check their seatbelts in preparation for takeoff. Bella glances at her watch and wonders if the airline wasn't able to resell Edward's ticket. The sight of the empty seat makes her sad, but she reminds herself that someone interesting could still show up and keep her company for the long flight.

She stretches out her legs and looks up to see if she can give her now-empty plastic champagne cup to someone when she notices a flurry of activity several rows ahead. A tall man is trying to help a very friendly flight attendant with a bulky case he didn't check into luggage. _He's lucky he's in business class,_ Bella thinks. _They sure wouldn't have room for that in economy. _

As he steps sideways, she sees it's a guitar case and her heart flutters when she looks up.

_Oh my God…it's Edward._

She freezes, blinking nervously as he points something out to the flustered blonde and helps her shift the case so that it fits wherever they are trying to force it.

Satisfied, he slaps his hands together as she presses the compartment door closed. The stewardess flashes him a big smile, but Bella realizes he's too distracted to notice.

Just as he looks at his ticket and starts down the aisle, Bella turns towards the window and smiles.

_Look at the lovely view,_ she thinks, her heart pounding.

She's not sure if she's even breathing when he approaches their aisle. There's a moment of dead silence as she waits for him to say something. Her attention remains fixed on the view as she smiles.

_He came. He's here. _

He clears his throat. "Excuse me, Miss, is this seat free?"

Remaining completely composed, she turns and looks at him. She can't help but notice that he looks tired and thinner, his eyes sad yet hopeful.

"Well sir," she starts after a long pause. "I was actually holding that seat for my boyfriend who was supposed to accompany me to Italy."

Edward studies her trying to figure out if she's glad at all that's he's joining her.

"I see," Edward answers. "And why isn't he here?"

"Well, I have faith in him. He still may show up."

"Really?"

"Yes, he's been working some stuff out, but he told me once that he loved me and that he wouldn't break my heart."

For a moment Edward is rendered speechless as his fingers dig into the headrest of his seat.

"So I'm afraid I can't let you sit there. He may still show up," Bella explains politely.

Edward clears his throat nervously and looks up at the seat number before looking back at Bella. "You know, miss, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I've said some stupid things, let a woman I cared about down..."

"Yes?" she asks.

"But what if I could be that man, the one you're waiting for?"

"How could I know without a doubt? I mean you look quite a bit like him, but otherwise I'm just not sure."

"Well, maybe if you give me a chance to explain, I could prove it to you."

"Really?"

He leans over her and speaks softly. "Please, Isabella. Please give me a chance. At the very least, we need to talk and come to some kind of peace."

Just then the flight attendant comes by and indicates that he needs to sit down and buckle up for take off.

"Please, Isabella?" he implores.

She gives him a long look that stuns him to his core. He sees the hurt, he sees her vulnerability, yet steadfast determination not to be crushed again.

She nods. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to sit and we'll see if _that_ man, the one who loved and adored me, is you."

"Do you want him to be? Do you want that man to take this trip with you?"

She turns back to the view and lets out a sigh.

"Desperately," she answers honestly. "I was so excited to go to Italy with him. Besides the task at hand, there were so many experiences I wanted to share just with him."

She shakes her head sadly. "And since our fight, there've been times I wasn't sure I could get through it without him. I must tell you though…I'm strong."

_Yes, you are, by God._ He nods as their eyes meet and come to some kind of understanding.

"Yes, I know you are," he says as he waits for her to give him a sign.

She tilts her head, indicating he should sit, so he slides his backpack under the seat in front of him and settles into the seat. He leans back into the cushion and closes his eyes while shaking his head.

"I can't believe I'm here," he says to himself.

She laughs softly and his eyes snap open as he turns to look at her.

"Something funny?" As curious as he is, it is wonderful to see his Isabella smile again. His hopeful heart warms a bit.

"I think you're very brave. And you thought I was the dramatic one," she says, the corners of her mouth turned up just a bit.

He smiles softly, too. "That was pretty dramatic, wasn't it? You know Rose suggested it."

"Rose suggested you surprise me on the plane?" Bella asks, amazed.

"Yeah, well after I told her I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to see me yesterday. So she pointed out that if I showed up for the flight, you wouldn't be able to avoid talking to me."

She looks up to see the crew shutting the plane's door and notifying the cockpit. She thinks about Edward getting coached by Rose.

"I'm not sure that was a good plan. I could decide not to talk to you here just as easily."

"True, but and then this will be an excruciating, long-ass flight for both of us." He reaches into the front seat pocket for the in-flight magazine. "In that case, I hope they have a good movie selection."

"No, I'm just saying that although I was a bit distracted yesterday with packing and making arrangements, I would've talked to you, Edward. I have things to apologize for as well."

He slides the magazine back in the pocket. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Edward realizes the plane is moving and he looks out the window.

"We're taking off," he says softly, looking at her.

"There's no going back now," she says.

"Nope." And he realizes how glad he is of that fact.

A minute later, the flight attendant starts her safety demonstration and Bella and Edward turn their focus forward. It's all a jumble to Bella, air masks and life vests. How can she think of such things when Edward is sitting next to her?

Suddenly she has the sense that he's studying her. She tries to refocus, but she feels his finger tip start to gently circle its way up her forearm. She quietly gasps at the sensation of it. He must know what he's doing to her. He's not playing fair, stirring her up like this.

When she turns to look at him, he leans forward to whisper in her ear.

"Are you glad I came, Isabella?"

She closes her eyes and pauses, before slowly nodding.

"But…" she says, forcing herself to pull her arm away.

"I know, I know," he says with a sigh. "We need to talk about it all. I understand that. But I just need you to know…"

"Yes?" she asks, fighting to stay calm.

"I just need you to know that I missed you, baby. I missed you so much."

She looks at him and sees every bit of regret in his eyes. She can't help but soften.

"I've missed you, too," she says. "But here you are."

"Yes," he agrees. "Here I am."

.

.

* * *

_And we're off to Italy...will you be joining us? I'd love to hear from you...  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Imagery and weekly teasers on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

_Also join me on Twitter dot com slash abstractway_


	21. Chapter 21 She Walks in Beauty

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-One / She Walks in Beauty**

.

"Do you know what I regret most?" Edward asks Bella as the plane levels off and the seatbelt lights turn off.

"No, what?" she asks.

"That I walked out that night. I should have stayed and kept talking until we figured it out."

She looks out the window at the blanket of clouds strewn across the vast sky.

"Well, yes…it really hurt when you walked out." She lets out a deep sigh.

He takes her words in and tries to steel himself for more.

"And you regret it," she affirms aloud, as she tips her head sideways. "I've heard it said that regret won't change anything, Edward."

He turns toward her, a sharp fear in his gut. "Do you believe that? What does that mean, for us?"

"Nothing…and everything," she responds mysteriously. "Besides Rose pushing you, why are you here now?"

He looks at her defeated expression. He fights the urge to pull her into his arms.

"Because I love you, Isabella."

Her heart flutters wildly at his words. She hadn't dreamt she would hear them so soon again.

"Still?" she asks.

"Yes, by God, yes," he insists, gazing at her with desperate eyes.

He lets out a long sigh.

"How can I explain it when such simple words can't convey something so complex?"

"Why don't you try using fancy words?" she asks provocatively.

"Fancy?" he asks, looking confused. "You mean fancy romantic talk?"

She nods and waits patiently.

He thinks for a moment and then leans toward her.

"No amount of fear or fury caused by what I learned that night has changed the indisputable fact that I love you. Even if you cast me aside, Isabella, I will love you for the rest of my days."

There's a long pause as she closes her eyes, then opens them, smiling.

"That's very lovely and romantic, my Edwardian-Edward," she says in a gentle tone.

"I mean it. So tell me, do you still love me?" he asks cautiously.

She studies him, trying to imagine how to verbalize the thunderstorm of feelings surging through her.

He holds up his hand. "No. Never mind. Don't answer that yet."

.

They sit quietly absorbing everything and a while later, she reaches over and touches his hand. She looks at him with a gentle expression. "I want to tell you something. I've replayed that evening many times in my head, and I realize now that I was so stunned when you found that bottle that I was immediately defensive. Frankly, I was in shock and didn't have time to process what it meant to you. Now that I know about your experience with finding your dad…"

She takes a deep breath as his fingers reach for hers.

"Of course you would be horrified," she says softly. "I'm so sorry that I was too wrapped up in my own issues to realize what was happening with you."

Edward nods slowly. "My reaction was so instinctive and powerful. Just the idea of losing you like I lost him. To come home and find you…"

"Shhhh," Bella whispers in a soothing voice. "I won't do that to you, Edward."

"But how can you know for sure? If you do get sick, will you be clear enough to make those kind of choices on your own? This is what haunts me, what I don't understand."

"And that's a question I can't answer. Honestly, I've wondered that from the moment I left that pill bottle on my mantle."

The flight attendant steps up to offer them drinks. They both request water and wait for her to move past them.

She continues. "The thing is, you haven't lived with the horrors of Alzheimer's first hand. I think if you understood it…"

Edward gets a melancholy look on his face. "No, I haven't, but after yesterday I understand it much better than I did before."

"Yesterday?" she asks. "What happened yesterday?"

"I went to that retirement home, Belmont Village, with Sean and Julia. Have you heard of it?"

"Sure, it's one of those high-end places. I looked into it for Mom when I went through a really rough spell taking care of her. But as long as she owned a home, we couldn't get any assistance, and we couldn't afford it either." She tilts her head and studies him. "So, why were you guys at Belmont Village?"

"They play music for the residents once a month. Julia's great uncle lives there."

"Okay, but why were _you_ there?" Bella persists.

Edward looks down and swallows hard. "I needed to see it, understand what it was like. Sean told me ahead of time that there was an Alzheimer's wing there, so I planned to visit it after their performance. As it turned out I met an old man named Andrew, and his wife Gracie, who has Alzheimer's."

"And he doesn't?" Bella asks with soft eyes.

"No. He's very sharp, but his body's failing. He had taken care of her at home until his kids insisted he move her, that the stress and work involved in her care was killing him."

"I see," says Bella, her expression all-knowing.

"He was devoted to her, Isabella," he says quietly.

"Like you would be to me," she states, understanding what he saw between them.

He nods and studies her, the sadness in her face-the weight of understanding what all that means.

"Yes, I would. But you don't want me to take care of you like that, do you?"

She has a soulful look, the pain radiating from her.

"No, I don't. I desperately don't. " She shakes her head over and over. "My dignity is precious to me. I can't bear the idea of losing it in such a lingering and endless way."

Edward thinks about dignity. The idea of being robbed of it is something Rose had brought up as well when they talked about Isabella.

"I want you to remember me like this, Edward. Not like what you saw yesterday. Never like that."

He holds her hand and hopes he never has to let go.

.

.

When the flight attendant has cleared away their meal trays, Bella turns to Edward.

"So I need you to tell me about the talk you had with Jacob that night weeks ago. I still can't believe that you guys discussed my health and kept it from me. That made me so furious."

"I know it did," says Edward as he lets out a frustrated sigh. "I called him impulsively, not thinking about the awkward situation it would create. Although honestly, I'm still glad I did it."

"Really?" she asks with a dubious look on her face.

"Can you put yourself in my shoes? What if I freaked out like that and wouldn't tell you why, when you asked? What would you do?" He shakes his head. "When you wouldn't tell me, I automatically assumed it was something horrible."

"And you were right," she points out.

"Isabella," he warns in a stern voice. "I worried you may have had cancer or something. What if it meant that you were living on borrowed time?"

"And you call me dramatic," she says.

He shrugs. "Falling in love brings out the protective side of me. I'd put you in a pickle jar to keep you safe forever if I could." He smiles sweetly at her.

She feels the mood shift lighter and it feels good.

"Okay, that's creepy," she teases smiling back. "But I understand what you mean."

"So I want you to know that Jacob didn't want to talk to me about it when I called him. He's very protective of you, too," he says.

"That he is," she agrees, her expression warming.

"But I pushed him and said that I was going to go on the internet and get the answers myself, and wouldn't it be better coming from him?" Edward explains.

"So you manipulated him," she points out.

"I guess you could say that. You see, I asked about what your mom had died of. It occurred to me that there may be a genetic connection to your fear."

"Well, you were right about that," she says sadly.

"Jacob gave me the facts, Isabella, but he also told me that he didn't believe you had the gene," Edward says, taking her hand.

"He did?" Her face lights up as if she finds it reassuring. It startles him.

"So you really don't know then…if you carry the gene or not?"

She turns and looks out the window for a minute, then slowly turns back. He can tell that this is a weight she carries every minute of every day. Even her shoulders sag as she sits quietly.

"Isabella?" he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand.

She looks up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. Finally, she shakes her head.

"No, I locked away the test results and never looked. Honestly, I just wasn't sure how I would go on if it were positive."

He nods and holds her hand tighter.

"Does this make you want to pull away from me?" she asks softly. "Because I'd understand it if you did."

"No, never," he replies without the slightest hesitation.

"Would you want to know if it were you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Yes in some ways, no in others."

She nods her head in agreement. "Exactly."

"So…" he starts to ask.

"Where do we go from here?" she fills in.

"Exactly," he echoes.

.

.

A young man walks down their aisle. His confident stride reminds Edward of someone.

"Jacob is pretty amazing, Isabella," Edward says, interrupting Bella as she reads her guidebook of Italy. "If I had a son I'd want him to be like him."

Her face lights up with pride as she looks up. "Yes, isn't he amazing? I'm so proud of him."

"You know he called me to make sure I'd pick you up at the train station. He was very persistent."

"Oh, my. That must've been awkward. What did you say?"

"He kept pushing, so I had to tell him that I wasn't going to Italy with you after all. But that he would have to ask you why."

"He probably didn't like that answer. Am I right?"

Edward laughs. "Yes."

She shakes her head smiling and opens her book back up.

"Hey," Edward says before she starts reading again. "Would you have been mad if I'd come to get you at the train station?"

"Mad?" She thinks carefully. "I can't remember how mad I was still at that point. That was after I burned a written rant about you and played angry rock music really loud. Yet, it was before I fondled your picture lovingly and packed it in my suitcase."

"What?" he asks, bewildered.

She waves her hands. "It's not important. I think I was softening at that point. I probably would have had make-up sex in the car if you'd picked me up at the train station."

"Really?"

"No. But points would have been earned Mr. C., big points."

"Damn. I'm such a fool," he laments.

.

.

She dozes off during the movie and then suddenly wakes up and looks at him. He pulls his earphones out.

"What?" he asks.

"So you've known for weeks that I have a fifty-fifty chance of getting sick and you've stayed with me. Actually, until you found those pills you'd been even more loving and attentive." Bella studies him with a look of marvel on her face. "You didn't pull away after you found out."

"No, I didn't. Why do you look so shocked?" Edward asks.

"I just always assumed that anyone would run for the hills."

He smiles. "So you've finally figured out that I'm not just anyone?"

He clears his throat and looks at her intently. "I keep telling you that I'm in love with you, Isabella. I may have lost my head temporarily with our fight, but I'm not going to abandon you again."

"Is that so?" she asks, challenging him.

"Yes, that's the truth. So now's a good opportunity, a stellar time for you to tell me that you still love me, too."

"Oh, " she whispers.

"Oh?" he asks, his voice tense. "Is that your reply?"

"Oh, I love you, Edward. Truly, I do."

"It sounds like a _but_ is coming," he comments, his forehead creased with worry.

"Well, yes. I love you, _but_ I think we need to slow things down while we figure all of this out. I think it's going to take some time to navigate through this issue and come to a mutual understanding. Meanwhile, I think it would be smart…" She hesitates and looks out the window. "I really think we should try being friends for a while."

"You want to be friends?" he asks loudly, flopping back into his seat. "Really?"

"Yes, that's what I'm thinking."

"Is this your idea of a punishment, or are we friends with benefits?"

"So now we're talking about sex."

"Yes, of course. A boyfriend is a good friend you also have sex with. Am I wrong about this? Why in the world would we want to give that up?"

"Well…."

"Wait a minute. you haven't liked the sex? I thought our sex was amazing. Did I miss something?"

She laughs, knowing he's teasing her. "Whoa…, slow down, you! I didn't mean that anything was lacking in the sex. If anything it's the opposite; the best love making of my life."

"Then for God's sake we should be having it, lots of it. What do you say we see if we both can fit into that business class cupboard of a bathroom?"

"You want to have sex now?"

"Of course. Don't you?" He lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

Her expression falls. "I mean it, Edward. I'm not kidding."

He takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'll be serious. So does this mean that you aren't going to let me make love to you in Italy?" he asks quietly, leaning close.

"I guess so," she admits with a somber voice.

"That just seems wrong in every way. Hey wait, does this mean you can sleep with Leonard if we're just friends?"

"You're getting off track here," she points out.

"You didn't answer the question." Her silence makes him wild. "Damn, woman. Just so you know that will kill me, Isabella."

"My idea is not to sleep with anyone, including you, until I feel safe again," she clarifies.

"Safe again?" he asks.

"Yes, not worried that you are going to walk out on me again. I can't bear that, Edward. I mean it."

"Oh, I see." His expression falls. "Is this a punishment? Not that I don't deserve it…"

"No, punishment is not my style. I just need to protect my heart. I can be a bit tender around the edges, you know."

He is overwhelmed with the idea of tender Isabella. He wants to hold her tight and promise her over and over that he will never hurt her again. But promises such as these are shallow and he knows it. No one can predict how a single turn in the road can throw everything upside down. He needs to show her respect and give her what she wants.

He needs to give her space, even if it kills him. How will he survive with the woman of his dreams in a bed with a wall between them? How will he rein in his desire for her?

He knew this trip was going to be challenging, he just had no idea how much so.

.

After twelve long hours, the descent to Florence is finally announced. Bella spends the final minutes before landing showing Edward strange items in the Skymall magazine.

Slightly disoriented from their long flight, the sudden immersion into a world of people speaking a different language and an unfamiliar airport is startling. Undaunted, they figure out where to claim their baggage, get through immigration, and locate the rental car business.

Keys and map in hand and their confidence boosted, they stock up on water bottles before hitting the road. Despite the navigation system, Bella has drawn out their path on the map in a purple glitter gel pen. Edward raises his eyebrows and shakes his head.

"And you expect me to follow that? It looks like we're on our way to Fairyland, not Lucca."

"Oh, never mind you!" she says, pushing his shoulder gently as to not force him off track. "I'm doing the navigating so you just keep your eyes on the road."

"Yeah?" he teases as she glances from the road to the map over and over.

"Ah!" she squeals suddenly. "Veer right, veer right! We're supposed to get on the autostrade A1 north, then the E76 west, then the A11." She's waving the map wildly.

He adeptly swerves the little Fiat to the right and lets out a huge huff after they merge into the traffic. "Well, that woke me up! That's some fine navigating, Ms. Swan. Thank God I'm here. Frankly, I can't imagine how you'd make your way to Lucca on your own."

"Oh, I'd figure it out," she shoots back. She smiles inwardly though, knowing that it's going to be so much better in every way having her Edward with her.

.

Due to Edward's quick adaptation to the Italian style of driving, skillful and very fast, they make it early to the market in Lucca where they are meeting the villa's agent. Edward reaches Elisabetta on the phone and she suggests that they do grocery shopping to stock up while she heads over to join them.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Bella asks as she wanders through the store. She finds delight in the smallest things and is instantly distracted. "Look at these tiny travel size bottles of balsamic vinegar!" She drops four in their cart and Edward just shakes his head.

"What do I want for breakfast?" Edward repeats.

_You._ He thinks silently as he watches her select peaches in the fruit selection. The way she fondles the fruit is incredibly distracting.

She turns and sees him observing her. "Why don't you go pick out some granola and yogurt that looks good or something? Make yourself useful, Mr. C."

He smirks and wanders off to find the cereal aisle.

Check-out is entertaining when the checker holds up the bags of fruit and starts chattering away at them in Italian. Bella and Edward look at each other dumbfounded, but the man in line behind them explains in excellent English that they have to weigh the fruit themselves and then print out the price tag for the checker.

"Oh no!" says Bella, flustered, worried about holding him up. Luckily the store isn't busy and he doesn't seem to mind. The man, dressed in pressed jeans and a tailored jacket, explains the oversight to the checker and the three of them head over to the fruit section so he can show them how it's done.

"You're so kind!" Bella says to the man when the last bag is calculated. "My name is Bella, by the way, and this is my friend, Edward."

Edward looks over at her surprised_. Friend? How quickly she's adapted to this damn friend thing._

Edward scowls at Bella as introductions continue and they learn the Italian's name is Carlo. Carlo is way too friendly in his opinion. He practically follows them out to their car.

As soon as Carlo parts, Elisabetta shows up and after another round of introductions, they follow her up the windy road to the villa. When they pull up to the hillside classic Italian structure, Bella starts to bounce in her seat.

"What?" Edward asks, smiling.

"Look Edward!" she exclaims, grabbing his arm. "It's perfectly beautiful. It's our villl-lllaaaaa!"

"Yes, it is," he agrees, grinning. "You like it?"

"I Love it! It's so pretty. It's like a storybook."

"Our storybook," he agrees.

.

As Isabella runs from room to room, Edward watches her smiling. She throws open the French doors and they step out onto a balcony that overlooks the sprawling yard and the walled secret garden with the swimming pool.

"Oh my, look at this view! It's even better than the pictures we saw on the internet."

"It is," he agrees, stepping close to her and draping his arm over her shoulders. She doesn't pull away, but instead leans into him and slides her arm along his back until her hand can rest on his hip.

"It's like a dream," she says softly. "This is going to be an amazing trip, I just feel it."

.

After Elisabetta walks them through the house and explains the ins and outs of everything from how to use the washer, to obtaining internet access, she wishes them well and heads out. Bella and Edward haul in their luggage and groceries and settle in.

They awkwardly go to their individual rooms to unpack and rest from the long travel. After not sleeping on the plane, Edward passes out on top of his bed. He wakes up some time later to the clattering of sounds and then a loud squeal.

"Mama Mia!"

_Isabella._

He throws his legs over the side of the bed and smiles. He tracks the sounds to the kitchen where she appears to be losing a battle with a cappuccino machine.

"Having trouble?" he asks, trying not to laugh. The machine is wheezing as Bella thumps it squarely like she's burping a baby.

She turns and appraises him wide-eyed. "Oh, look who's up from his nap!" She grins and walks over, then reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. "You've got bed-head hair," she laughs and then strokes his cheek, "and sheet wrinkles pressed into your skin. You must have slept hard, handsome."

He nods and rubs his eyes. "I sure did." He looks past her at the mess on the counter. "Need some help?"

"Are barista abilities on your long list of mad skills?" she asks.

"Of course, Isabella," he assures her. "I'm a man of the world. Step aside." He yawns as he makes a dramatic gesture with his arm.

She curtsies and quickly steps back. Within minutes, he has the contraption figured out and she watches him admiringly, thinking how good it is to have him here with her.

"Cappuccino?" he asks, offering the ceramic cup to Bella. "You know in Italy, they think it's gauche to drink milk past breakfast."

"No!" Bella exclaims. "What do they drink to keep themselves awake in the afternoon then?"

"Plain expresso," he explains.

"Naked coffee?" she asks, horrified.

He laughs. "Naked? Yes, completely naked."

"Really?" asks Bella. "I guess I'm gauche then, cause I'm not drinking that stuff unless it's lightened and sweetened up."

She smiles as she takes sip. They sit at the kitchen table and just stare at each other for a while.

"Your hair is wet," he observes.

"I took a long bath and tried to learn how to use that shower spray contraption." She laughs. "The whole bathroom got a bath."

"So you're trying to tell me that you aren't a woman of the world?" he teases.

"Well, I'm trying to be," she insists. "Hey, let's wander down the hill soon to the neighborhood square. I noticed there were a couple of little cafes there. We could try one out for dinner."

He pushes his chair back, stands up and stretches. "Well, before we do that I need a bath, too. Let me go see what you did to the bathroom."

"Careful, don't slip!" she calls out as he heads down the hall.

.

.

"Oh my God!" she whispers, waving her fork in the air.

Edward swallows his sip of wine and sets the glass down. "What?"

"My mouth just had an orgasm! Seriously! This is the best eggplant parmesan on the planet!"

"Really?" he asks, trying to be serious. "The best? That's a big statement?"

"You doubt me?" she asks haughtily. "Hold on, you _will_ regret your lack of faith in me, Mr. C."

He smirks as she cuts off a sizable bite from her dish and offers it like a gift.

_Jesus. She wasn't kidding,_ he thinks, shaking his head as the delectable bite melts in his mouth.

He keeps a poker face though just to toy with her.

"What? You don't like it?" she asks in horror.

The young waitress approaches warily just before Edward finally smiles.

"Es okay?" she asks, gesturing to the dishes. She looks sincerely worried.

"Ahhh," Bella sighs loudly before giving the waitress a huge grin and pressing her hand over her heart. She gestures wildly with the fork. "Perfecto!"

"Is that even a word?" Edward asks.

Bella makes a face at him and turns back to the girl who looks just like the couple who have now stepped out of the kitchen. This must be a family business and her parents, the chefs.

"Es muy bueno!" Bella announces enthusiastically.

The Italians roll their eyes but breathe a sigh of relief and go back to what they were doing before the drama.

"You!" she says, pointing her fork at Edward. "You are bad."

He laughs. "And you just spoke Spanish to the Italians." He lifts his glass. "Salute!"

She giggles and lifts her glass. "Yes, salute!"

.

Later in the square, they eat gelato and watch the families congregate. Little kids roll around on tricycles, old men share stories, and young men prowl the beautiful girls with their long tan legs and dark eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asks, nodding at her cup of gelato as he watches her lick her spoon.

"It's not _Love Potion_, but it's mighty tasty," she says playfully.

Just then a group of musicians approach their outdoor set up, settle in, and start playing. For the most part, the gathering reacts to it like ambient music and continues their conversations but as the performance goes on a few people get up to sway or dance to the music.

Edward observes Bella warily. She had a bit too much wine and he knows this circumstance will be hard for her to resist. He also knows he isn't in the mood to dance among strangers while everything feels so unsettled. He tries to distract her by asking what's on their schedule tomorrow, but her attention quickly dissipates.

She jumps up and reaches out for him. "Come on!"

"What?" he responds, leaning back on the bench.

"Dance with me?" she asks sweetly. "Please…"

He shakes his head. "Not tonight."

She pulls on his sleeve to no avail and finally gives up. She gives him a long curious look, spins on her heel, and moves towards the group dancing near the musicians.

Bella eases into the group gracefully, swaying her hips and rolling her shoulders in a kind of half dance. Edward watches her appreciatively, her white shirt catching the last rays of the falling sun.

He sighs._ She's so beautiful._

His heart hurts just watching her, knowing she won't be in his arms tonight. He's confident that in time she will trust him again to hold him close, but this is going to seriously test him. He wants her so much.

The band starts up their second song and Bella shows no sign of slowing down. A moment later Edward sits up straight as he notices a man approach her. She begins to talk to him and then they both turn to Edward and she points him out. Edward realizes that it's that guy, Carlo, who helped them in the market. He nods at Edward and Edward nods back.

Edward hardly has a moment to process all of this when Carlo takes Bella's hand and starts dancing with her. His first reaction is to go rip the guy's arms off for touching his woman, but when he sees the expression of delight on Bella's face, he rethinks that idea. Besides, she told Carlo that they were just friends so he can't blame the guy even though he wants to deck him.

As he watches them, he chastises himself reminding himself that she'd asked him to dance with her and he turned her down.

_Why in the hell didn't you just dance with her in the first place, idiot?_

His fingers grip the edge of the bench as he watches them move back and forth. This Carlo guy, with his pressed linen shirt and slicked back hair, is just too damn smooth. He does not like it at all. Things seem casual for most of the song, they sway and converse, but when Carlo places his hand on Bella's lower back and pulls her closer, Edward quickly stands up and stalks towards them. As he gets closer, he sees that Bella's stepped away and she looks over at him nervously.

She reaches out for Edward as he gets close.

"You ready to go? I'm a little tired," she says quietly.

He nods as she loops her arm in his.

She turns back to her dance partner. "Thanks, Carlo. It was so nice seeing you again."

He smiles warmly at her and nods to Edward. "Buona notte."

.

They walk silently the entire way back to the villa. Overwhelmed by a swirl of feelings, she tries to distract herself by studying the details of the neighborhood. She loves all the houses with their pretty gardens and simple elegance. At night, the Tuscan hues of sienna and ochre are quietly muted, the only color in the evening palette is the warm yellow light shining through the windows from inside.

Once they step up to Villa Eugenia, Edward takes out the key and lets them in. Bella sinks down on the white linen covered couch and Edward grabs them a couple of bottles of water from the kitchen. He unscrews the top off and hands her a bottle before sitting down next to her.

"So, Carlo invited us to his family's villa for dinner," she says.

"Yeah?"

"He wants his sister to meet you. She's a musician too, and plays the guitar as well."

He gives her a stern look.

"What?" she asks.

"I don't want to _meet_ his fucking sister, Isabella. What the hell?"

She looks confused for a moment, then her expression brightens with recognition.

"Oh, no! She's married, he didn't mean it like that."

Edward takes a deep breath and tries to steady himself.

"What else did you and Mr. Italian Guy talk about?"

"Well, I told him about you."

Edward raises his eyebrows. "What about me?"

She sighs. "I told him that we may be friends right now, but that I'm most definitely in love with you."

"You did?" He can't hide his relief. "So did he back off?"

She nods. "Immediately. It also probably didn't hurt that you were headed over towards us just then and looking a bit territorial."

"He didn't want to get that fancy shirt wrinkled, huh? Cause I was ready to mess it up for sure."

She smiles. "I doubt he wanted to take you on. You're much bigger than him." She takes a few sips of water and then stands up. "Well, now that we've got that resolved, I'm going to take a swim and then head to bed."

He stands up.

"Isabella?" He lightly runs his finger down her arm. "Do you want company in the pool?"

She smiles sadly at him. "If it's okay, I'd like to swim alone tonight. I've got a lot on my mind."

She can feel his sense of rejection, even though he tries to hide it. She leans into him and presses her cheek against his shoulder. "I didn't like it when Carlo touched me, Edward. You are the only one I want touching me like that."

He slides his hand on her lower back and presses so that she is closer to him. "Like this?" he whispers.

She nods and gets closer still. He pulls his arms tight around her.

"Isabella, please," he says softly.

It takes all her resolve not to kiss him as his warmth envelopes her, his body's reaction to her impossible to hide.

"Edward," she moans. "I know you want me, and I'm sure you can sense how much I want you, too. I just need a little more time." She brushes her forehead along his jaw, then looks up and rakes her fingers through his stubble.

"What's this all about? Are you growing a beard?"

His expression softens. "I'm not going to shave again until you kiss me," he says quietly.

"Is that so?" She smiles.

He nods. "My beard grows really quickly. So for both of our sakes, I'm hoping you sort out things pretty fast."

She hugs him tight one last time and with a kiss on the cheek she moves towards her room.

"Goodnight, Isabella," he calls out to her.

"Goodnight," she replies.

.

He stands on his balcony bathed in moonlight. His eyes roam across the yard. He sees Isabella slip through the gate and approach the pool. She lifts up her robe and carefully dips her toe in the water.

_She walks in beauty like the night._

Lord Byron's famous poem has come alive for him.

A moment later she approaches the chaise lounge, undoes her robe and pulls it off revealing that she's naked. He stops breathing as she drops the garment and turns back his direction.

"_Oh, God_," he whispers. Her skin is soft alabaster glowing cool and hot. She is his highlight and shadow, a picture always developing before his eyes.

His fingers grip the balcony railing tightly.

She steps into the water and slowly sinks down.

He remembers the first time they made love, how he'd found her in the pool and couldn't stop touching her until she was in his arms and in his bed. Now, weeks later, he finds himself fully aroused at the memory of it and wondering how to make magic happen twice.

Despite her wishes, it's taking everything he has not to head down to the pool. Surely she is struggling, too.

_He wants her._

He wants her so much it hurts, an ache he has no idea how to numb.

He gazes down at her and she's floating now, her shape and the very idea of her beckoning him. He turns away in agony.

"Come back to me, Isabella," he whispers. "Please baby, come back to me."

.

.

* * *

_I'm not sure I'd be able to resist Edward in Italy. How about you?  
_

_Thanks for reading.  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Imagery and weekly teasers on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

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	22. Chapter 22 Her Anchor

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy. I can't emphasize enough how much I appreciate these women and the care and attention they give me and this story._

This was a particularly rough week at work so I'm sorry I wasn't able to get the teasers up on Facebook or reply to more reviews...hopefully I'll get caught up soon because your comments mean so much to me._  
_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Two / Her Anchor**

.

She slowly blinks as she floats, surprised that every time she opens her eyes she's in Italy. The night air is warm and traced with the scent of lavender from the garden. She gazes at the crescent moon as she tries to also absorb the wonder that Edward is here in Italy with her after all.

Her fingers comb back and forth through the water to keep her afloat.

Everything feels like a dream. How is it that she finds herself in a Mediterranean villa with a man she didn't even know just months ago? He's a man who has made her believe she could fall deeply in love again, that her time to have this kind of love in her life isn't over. Instead, with Edward, her time for love has just begun.

She forces herself to remember though, that Edward is also the man who walked away. Does she dare trust him again?

Her heart is twisted in knots. Her spirit wants to be wide open, but she's afraid. Her fragility can only be tested so many ways before it crumbles.

She swims around and floats as she thinks of him-his touch, how he whispers her name just before he kisses her, the way he holds her when they sleep. His love is a powerful force, a riptide pulling her towards him.

She senses he's near, and looking up, she sees him leaning into the railing of the second floor balcony. His jeans hang low on his hips and his hair's in disarray. Shirtless, the moonlight renders his skin silver. He's watching her every move.

He is waiting.

She wants him, but doesn't go to him; instead, she floats. The water protects her, holds her, washes away the worst of her fears.

"_Do you truly love me?"_ she whispers, too low for him to hear.

"_Do you want me?" _

"_Am I everything? Am I enough?"_

She lowers her legs slowly and stands tall in the water, moving toward the moonlit stairs. She rises from the water like a sunrise at midnight.

He watches and holds on to the railing tight.

_His everything, his love…_

In the night air, she thinks she hears his voice.

_Come back to me, Isabella. _

_Please, baby, come back to me._

.

..~*~..

.

Her late night swim relaxes her. As a result, her sleep is heavy and dreamless. Hours later in the early morning, with great reluctance she forces herself out of bed to use the restroom. She looks out the window, and the sun's just peaking over the horizon.

After she washes her hands, she studies herself in the mirror and smoothes down her wild hair. Her eyes are still sleepy, but her expression peaceful. She hasn't seen that look in days.

Before she crawls back in bed she has an overwhelming urge to see Edward. She feels warm all over at the idea of watching him sleep. With each quiet step down the hall toward the beautiful man, her heart skips.

The door is already cracked wide and just as she pushes it further open she hears the rustle of sheets and sound of skin on skin and heavy breaths.

_What?_

Adrenaline fires through her as she leans forward.

Her cheeks instantly flush at the sight of Edward naked, the sheets pushed down as his fist moves up and down. She reaches out to the doorframe to steady herself. She can barely control her inner thrill at the sight of him.

She studies the outline of muscles in his strong thighs, remembering how it felt to run her hands over them before taking him in her mouth. Her head spins with the memory as she watches.

His hand moves with purpose, the rhythm hypnotizing.

_Good God_. This sexual creature is_ her_ man.

Is it so inappropriate for her to be watching this most private act? She lustfully gazes at his raw beauty. The fact that she doesn't turn away seems so wrong, yet feels so right.

She wonders what thoughts aroused him so powerfully in the middle of his rest. His eyes are wedged shut but he's obviously awake. Is he thinking of her?

She fights the urge to go to him. Would it really be wrong to climb on his bed and ease down over him? _So wrong, so wrong_ she chants internally, shaking her head.

Pushing the door open further, she takes her first step inside when suddenly his movement speeds up and she slinks back to retreat.

He's moaning, low and rough, his hips lifting rhythmically. Bella laments that she hadn't moved faster, that she isn't on top of him. She could be digging her fingers into his shoulders instead of against the rigid wood of the doorframe. Her gaze trails up for a second to see his chest is flushed and his jaw tense. His movements are hard now, everything seems hard, every muscle defined.

She watches him, mesmerized, doubting she has ever seen anything more magnificent as his hips thrust up one last time.

"Isabella," he gasps. With a groan, he starts to spill across his chest.

Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, muffling her gasp.

As his ragged breathing slows, he repeats her name one last time.

"_Isabella."_

Her heart is pounding, her gaze transfixed. She has never been more aroused, more inappropriately voyeuristic, more shaken to her sexual core.

.

As he takes a deep breath and finally settles back down on the sheets, his eyes open, and sensing something out of place, they dart to her.

He is too dazed to be shocked, too exposed to even begin to cover himself. He lies spread eagle and watches her blush, realizing that she saw the truth that the mere idea of her arouses him. He can't even be embarrassed.

He turns away for a moment to reach for tissues, but when he turns back, she is gone.

He wonders if his desire concocted her like a mirage. He could sense she was aroused; he could feel her want. As he wipes his chest, he feels no shame for her to see what she still does to him. Just knowing she lingered in his doorway gives him the hope that she's coming back to him, one small step at a time.

.

Bella's heart races as she slides back under the sheets. She can't believe he saw her watching him.

_Isabella. _He called out her name. She smiles with a quiet satisfaction.

She pictures him in the throes of climax and she parts her legs. He knows that she heard him gasp her name. Her cheeks are on fire as she presses into the cool sheets.

Surely she has never witnessed anything so erotic. She's beside herself, not knowing whether she should touch herself and find her own relief or throw herself in the pool again. The image of his release is now burned into her memory to tease and taunt her. After tossing and turning, she finally gives up on sleep and gets out of bed to start her day.

.

..~*~..

.

Hours later, Edward wakes and wanders into the kitchen to make coffee. There's no sign of Isabella until he hears the front door explode open. There's a crash sounding like things tumbling to the floor. A moment later she staggers into the kitchen to drop a topsy turvy bag on the counter. When she sees him, she blushes, then a beat later waves the key at him.

"How in the world did you make opening the door look so easy? This skeleton key is cool looking and all, but it just took an act of God for me to get the door open. Didn't you hear me swearing on the porch?"

He smiles. "Good morning to you, Isabella." He takes his coffee and sits down at the kitchen table and shakes his head. "Sorry, no…I didn't hear you swearing. I would've let you in."

"Would you?" she asks, her hand on her hip, her eyebrows arched.

He wonders if she is inadvertently making a reference to early this morning and he goes with it. "Yes, I promise I will always let you in the door whether you're swearing or quiet as a mouse."

"Hmmm," she replies, quickly looking away. She heads to the living room to pick up the fallen items.

"That's some early morning shopping," he comments when she returns.

"Couldn't sleep," she says as she unpacks the brown paper bags. "That tiny market was open. Look at these plums! Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?"

"They look positively succulent," he teases. "Yes, there is something about a plum when your teeth breaks through that delicate skin to that sweet juiciness."

She side-eyes him. "You're rather provocative," she says.

He smiles at her and shrugs.

"Look here," she announces without missing a beat. "They had this fancy pants bread with stuff in it."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, look." She tears a small piece off the loaf and then divides it in half. She gives him one half and stuffs the other in her mouth. She grins widely.

"Whoa, that's good! Yes?"

He nods and watches her lick her lips. _Damn,_ all he can think about is sex. He needs to get a grip and get it fast. All he wants to do is bend her over the kitchen table, lift her skirt, and…

"So are you still up for lunch in Pisa?" she asks. "It's an hour drive away. You're not too tired?"

"No, not at all. I slept like a baby. Well I woke up once, but slept really well after that."

_Of course you slept well,_ she thinks with a sigh.

"Are you too tired? We can always do it another day," he asks.

"No, let's go. I can't wait!" She reaches into the cupboard and grabs a mug. "I'll just have some of that coffee and I'll be fine."

.

She glances at him as he skillfully winds the Fiat down the hill. His beard is thicker now, and his aviator glasses add to the dark mysterious look.

He looks over at her. "What are you thinking about?"

"How handsome you are," she replies.

He smiles lazily. "Well, thank you."

He looks over at her legs and his smile widens. "You look really nice today. You know I like that skirt on you."

She nods. "I was thinking about wearing the rainbow skirt, but I decided to give you a break today."

"Thank you. I appreciate that you're thinking about me as you make your fashion choices."

"But I'm onto you," she says. "You like this skirt because it's short."

"Is there anything wrong with the fact that I love your legs?" He asks.

"No, nothing at all."

"Good, because I do. I really do," he insists.

.

The plan is to have lunch then wander around, but the minute Bella sees the leaning tower, she sprints from the car and dashes across the wide lawn. Edward slowly follows after her and grins when he realizes she's hugging the massive building. She's quite a sight, her arms stretched across the marble surface, her cheek lovingly pressed against the stone. She doesn't seem to notice when several people take pictures of her. She finally steps back and turns to Edward.

"I'm guessing you're happy to see the tower?" he says.

"It's the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Edward!"

"It sure is." He steps back and turns his head sideways. "And they weren't joking…it's really leaning."

"This is one of the most famous buildings ever!" she exclaims. "When I was a girl I read a story about it. My mom helped me make my own leaning tower for my Liddle Kiddle dolls. They were always falling out of the arched windows."

"I can't take the cuteness," Edward teases. "How about lunch and then I'll chase you to the top of the tower."

"It's a deal."

Before they move away, she takes the snapshot he'd promised weeks ago to pose for. In it the tower is leaning, Edward is leaning and Bella leans while she shoots it. They laugh but the result could be a statement on how their world feels right now. She wonders if anything will ever feel straightened out again.

.

"Why did I agree to wine with lunch? You aren't going to be chasing me anywhere, mister." She stretches back in her chair and rubs her tummy.

"You sure?" he asks, finally pushing his now-empty plate of pasta away. He pours more wine, finishing off the carafe between each of their glasses.

"Yes, I'm sure. Actually, it's more likely I'm going to stretch out on that lawn over there and take a nap. Can you imagine the dreams I'd have sleeping under the leaning tower?" She takes a long sip of wine and then notices he's looking peculiar. There's something in his expression that stirs her.

"What?" she asks, leaning in on her elbow.

He takes a slow sip of wine as he watches her. "I had an intriguing dream early this morning."

She blinks wide-eyed at him. "You did?" she asks quietly, looking down.

He tips his hand so that the wine swirls inside his glass. "I dreamt that you were in my doorway."

"Really?" she asks, her cheeks flushing. "And what was I doing?"

He scoots closer in his chair and studies her, drawing out the moment. "You were watching me." His eyes heat up as she wonders how to respond.

"You know it wasn't a dream," she whispers.

He remains quiet and watches her squirm.

"I'm so sorry," she insists. "I swear I wasn't spying or being creepy. I just wanted to watch you sleep. Well I guess that is creepy, isn't it?"

"You wanted to watch me sleep?"

"Yes, but then when I looked in… well, you weren't sleeping."

"No, I wasn't." He takes another sip of wine and tips his head back as he watches her.

She feels his foot slide up next to hers. A current of electricity passes between them. There's a pregnant pause, as each of them considers their thoughts.

"How long were you there?" he finally asks.

"Long enough," she whispers, twisting the napkin on her lap. "Long enough to hear you call out my name."

"You know why, Isabella. Don't you?"

"Tell me," she says, pressing her thighs together tightly.

"Because I was imagining that I was making love to you."

She nervously runs her hand down her neck and rests it on her chest. "Oh my," she sighs.

"I know we're waiting, but that doesn't change the fact that I miss you in my arms, Isabella. I miss you in my bed."

"I miss you too," she admits.

"Do you still think of me like that? Do you lie in bed and think of me making love to you?"

He pushes his foot closer and his knee gently skims her inner thighs.

"Did you touch yourself this morning after you saw how much I wanted you?"

Her cheeks are on fire as she nods. "Yes," she whispers.

He leans back in his chair and takes a deep, ragged breath. He's simmering as he watches her.

She fumbles with her silverware, then takes a gulp of wine before looking back at him.

He nods knowingly. "Good. Now you know what I'll be picturing tonight, Isabella…just in case you want to watch me _sleep_ again."

.

..~*~..

.

Back at the villa she takes a long shower to cool off, anything to distract her from their pasta lunch which was garnished with a healthy topping of unresolved lust.

She finally calls Leo to finalize their plans for the next day. He agrees to pick her up in the town square in the late afternoon. She wants to avoid anything awkward between Leo and Edward. She's having a hard enough time coming to terms with what's ahead of her.

His voice is deeper and more world-weary than she remembers it. Unfortunately, the way he speaks to her is a little too smooth for comfort. Something about his tone when he says he can't wait to see her. She can only imagine what kind of evening she's in store for with him.

She tries to lie down and take a short nap, but then she hears Edward out in the garden playing his guitar. She smiles, recognizing the music he'd written for her. It also seems as if he's singing the words, although she's not close enough to make them out.

The man is going to be the death of her, surely. She wonders how much longer she'll be able to resist him. There's something about Italy that brings out the passion buried inside even the coldest heart. She's been trying to hold back, but her walls of resistance are crumbling.

.

For evening, they'd planned on visiting the walled city part of Lucca, and this time he encourages her to drive the little Fiat, even though she grinds the gears a few times until she gets the hang of the stick shift. She regains his admiration when she adeptly maneuvers the car into a tiny parking space right on the edge of the ancient wall. When she steps out of the car she smoothes her dress down and notices him watching her.

"What?" she asks. "Do you like my new sundress?" She turns around once and then smiles at him.

"Very much," he says. "You look very pretty tonight."

"Well, thank you," she says, feeling pleased. "I bought it for just for our trip."

He smiles and reaches his hand out to her. She takes it and they begin strolling down the stone-lined streets. They stop at various shop windows so Bella can admire what's on display. She drags him in a few stores if she's especially excited about something she sees. In one shoe shop she even tries on a pair of sandals, but worries the heels are too high. Edward sits off to the side and watches her amused as she talks to herself while studying her feet in different positions in the mirror.

On the way out the store she suddenly stops and exclaims, "Look, Edward! You should get one of these!"

"I should get a purse?" he asks as she holds up the dark brown leather bag with the long strap.

"It's not a purse, silly! It's a man-bag. They're so practical. You don't have to shove all your stuff in your pockets, see?" She holds the bag open so he can look inside.

"It's very fashionable," the young Italian sales lady with the thick accent jumps in.

He nods politely to the saleswoman as he slowly pushes Bella out of the store. "I'm not carrying a man-bag, Isabella," he says firmly.

"No?" she asks, grinning.

"No, never."

"You just passed the test with flying colors," she says, kissing him on his cheek. "I didn't tell you, but man-bags are a deal-breaker for me," she shares.

"All man-bags, or just the floofy ones?"

"All, definitely all."

"Are there other tests I must pass on this trip that I wasn't aware of?"

"Yup, a few. Most when you least expect it."

"Thanks for the warning," he says, smirking. "And if I pass all the tests what do I win in the end?"

"Oh, you'll see."

"Will I like it?" he teases.

"Yes," she answers demurely. "I'm sure you will."

.

They head to the dinner place that Elisabetta recommended. Despite the maze of streets, they follow her instructions and find it without any trouble. The restaurant is larger than the one in their neighborhood, but still feels family run. There isn't a menu; the waiter just explains what they have that night.

Their patio table sits on the edge of a square and is criss-crossed with little bulb lights hanging overhead. Under the soft warm light, they drink wine and watch the Italian couples and families around them converse animatedly.

Bella leans in toward Edward. "I love these people," she says, grinning.

"All of the people?" Edward asks, glancing around.

"Just look at them…they're so passionate about everything!" She nods toward a couple where the girl's hand movements are so dramatic her boyfriend scoots the wine carafe away from her so she doesn't knock it over.

"Yup, they're your people," Edward agrees.

"I must have been Italian in one of my past lives," she says confidently.

"Oh, so you've had more than one?" he asks.

"Many, many past lives. That's why I have such a deep soul."

Edward remains quiet, taking a sip of his wine as he watches her.

"What?" she asks. "Don't you think I have a deep soul?"

"Oh, I do. So deep baby, the deepest," he says, trying to smile.

"You look sad all of a sudden. Is everything all right?" Bella asks Edward.

"I don't know," he says looking into the distance and avoiding her gaze. "I just starting thinking about your meeting tomorrow night with the Italian ex and it's getting to me. Maybe if we were on more solid ground I'd feel better about it."

"Or maybe you wouldn't," she says. "I hate it when you meet with Lauren; I just try not to show it. So if I were you I wouldn't like it either. But you know this was always the plan-the original reason I was coming to Italy."

"Maybe I should change my mind about going along. Perhaps you should take me with you," he suggests. "What if he captures your heart again?"

"Oh, handsome, I don't want you to worry. I'm not going to run off with Leo." She takes his hand in hers. "We've gone through a rough time, but you're _my_ man. I'm not looking to replace you."

"Good to know," responds Edward. He takes a deep breath. "All the plans we had for coming to Italy together, this isn't quite how I expected this trip to go, you know."

"Nor I. But this is still pretty wonderful, don't you think?" she says, smiling.

"It is, but it could be better, Isabella. I wish you'd let me show you how."

She sighs and closes her eyes as his hand tightens over hers.

.

After dinner they wander through more of the town, passing a café where a screen has been set up outside for the patrons to watch the latest soccer match of the European Championship. Edward lingers as they pass and Bella suggests they have an after dinner drink so he can enjoy some of the game with the locals.

The group sitting around them is very vocal and Edward ends up engaging in a conversation with an expatriate German at the next table. Bella listens to their soccer debate smiling, but after a while she taps Edward on the arm to get his attention.

"You know that stand we passed with the T-shirts and soccer jerseys? Would you mind if I go back and buy the one I was looking at for Jacob? I'd like to get it before they close."

"Here, I'll go with you," Edward says, sliding his chair away from the table.

"No, handsome. Stay here and watch the game. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You sure?" he asks, looking happy to have a bit longer with his German friend.

"Absolutely," she says as she stands. "I'll see you in a bit."

.

Bella only has to backtrack a few short streets before she finds the stand. She points out the style she wants to the young man working there, but as he goes through his stock he realizes that he's out of the size she needs for Jacob. He makes a quick call to his brother who confirms that he has what Bella is looking for at his location.

In his broken English, the man explains to Bella how to get to his brother's location. It sounds a bit complicated to her, but he assures her it's just a five minute walk. She sets out repeating to herself the directions over and over as she makes the series of turns. She smiles widely when she makes the last turn and ends up in a large square where the stand lines up with a series of vendors on the far side.

The brother holds up the jersey as she approaches, clearly expecting her. She happily pays and, tucking her bag under her arm, starts heading back. Her return journey is more relaxed as she takes the time to enjoy her surroundings: a window box full of flowers, a grey cat darting down a side street, a shopkeeper sweeping her front step, her hair pulled back in a colorful scarf. Bella's senses are overwhelmed, the sounds of conversation and music, the scent of baking bread and sautéing garlic, the violet hue of light as the sun falls lower in the sky.

It isn't until Bella approaches what she estimates to be the main street, when she realizes that not only is it not the main street, but she doesn't recognize anything around her. She looks side to side bewildered, trying to figure out where she is. A moment later she realizes that she doesn't know the name of the café where Edward is waiting for her and she can't remember the name of the restaurant where they dined. She opens her bag and fumbles for her cell phone and begins to panic when it hits her she must have left it back at the villa. Her heart pounding, she decides to retrace her steps back to the second stand and start all over again.

_She can't be that far from Edward, can she?_ she wonders, trying to stay calm enough to be focused.

.

After ten minutes Edward finds himself distracted talking to the German. Shouldn't Isabella be back by now? He dials her on his cell phone but it rings and then goes to voicemail. Remembering that he saw her phone recharging on the kitchen counter, he realizes that she probably doesn't have it with her. Who would have thought she would need it?

He tries to calm himself and continue the conversation with the German, but his foot starts wildly tapping as his watch passes the fifteen minute mark. _Maybe she decided to do more shopping?_ He decides it's best if he waits for her since this is where she's expecting him to be.

At twenty minutes, his stomach starts churning and by twenty-five he apologizes to the German and rises, determined to find Isabella. His new friend assures him that he will keep an eye out for her, and after exchanging phone numbers, he promises to call Edward if she shows up before he returns.

When Edward reaches the stand where he remembers Isabella shopping for Jacob, his heart sinks when he realizes that not only is it closed and sealed up, but the shops around it are closed as well. Panicked, he looks up and down the street but sees no sign of her. He starts quickly walking down the main street and every time he reaches a cross street or path, he heads down far enough so he can try to spot her in the distance. When he gets almost back to where they entered the walled town, he heads back, searching in the same system until he reaches the café again.

His friend looks dismayed when he sees that he still hasn't found Isabella. Edward takes off again, this time in a jog venturing deeper into the town center as he calls out her name. The entire time, he chastises himself. How could he have let her go off alone? It's getting dark and he has no way to find her. The effect of the wine has completely worn off as he picks up speed. He's never felt more sober.

Once he thinks he sees a glimpse of her and runs at full speed, but when approaches the woman he realizes it isn't her and he almost keels over in disappointment. He runs the opposite direction.

"Isabella," he calls out in a panic.

As he runs, his mind races about how he can get help. He decides to get back to the café and have the owner, a kind-faced older man, help him call the police. He runs back toward the main street taking a path further north. The route curves to the left and he passes through a large square with a church. He almost stumbles when he sees a panicked woman pacing the church stairs as she clutches a bag. Her eyes wild, she's obviously terrified.

"Isabella!"

He runs full speed to her and as he gets to her she drops her bag, and falls into his arms.

"Edward," she sobs. "I got lost…so lost."

He holds her tightly against his chest. "I know, baby, I know. I've been looking everywhere for you." He gasps, trying to catch his breath.

"I was starting to think I wasn't going to find you, get back to you," she cries. "It's getting dark, Edward. What would we've done? I didn't even have my stupid phone."

"It's okay," he assures you. "I found you. That's what matters."

"But what if…" she starts.

"Shhhh," he says softly, rocking her in his arms. "Nothing bad would've happened. Besides, you're okay, and you're with me now."

She trembles, the tears still flowing. "I always want to be with you. Don't leave me again, Edward. Please don't leave me."

As he wraps his arm over her shoulder so they can start the walk back to the café, he doesn't remind her that this time she was the one that wandered off. He knows that's not what she really meant anyway. Getting lost has stirred up her greatest fears. Instead, his heart aches as he thinks about her despair and the way she begged him to never leave again, not just now, but the evening of their fight.

"Never," he says softly as he pulls her along. "I'm not leaving, and I'm never letting you wander off again. You're stuck with me, baby."

She sighs and leans into him as they finally reach the main street. He kisses her on the forehead and guides them back to the café so he can let his friend know all is well. Reoriented, they make it back to their car and Bella hands Edward the car keys, having no intention of driving after her ordeal.

.

Back in the villa, as they get ready for bed they're silent, each processing their fears of the implications of her wandering and confusion. He reminds himself that she was disoriented with jet lag, having not fully caught up on her sleep. She'd also had too much wine and the sun was falling, rendering everything different from when they had entered the walls.

_She's okay, she's okay,_ he repeats to himself over and over.

When she shows up wearing her nightgown in his doorway, he feels relieved.

"Can I?" she asks, pointing towards the bed. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Of course," he assures her, pulling back the covers on her side of the bed.

She crawls in and turns on her side toward him. Her eyes are still haunted and it weighs heavy on his heart.

"I just need to have you near," she says softly.

He wonders if she's concerned he won't be able to control himself. He knows it's important that she feel at ease.

"I want you near, too. And don't worry; there won't be a repeat performance of last night. Well, not tonight anyway," Edward says.

Her smile is weak, but she smiles none the less. "That's probably for the better tonight. Thank you, Edward."

"Sure. You know I want to take care of you." He reaches over and pulls her close, tucking her under his arm.

She sighs. "I know, and I love you for it. And if it's all right I'll take a raincheck on that repeat performance. I really don't want to miss the encore."

"You've got a deal," he says, finally feeling her relax, her cheek on his chest. Despite their ordeal, and even though they won't be making love tonight, he's so happy to have her in his bed. He gently runs his fingertips back and forth across her back.

A minute later he glances down to see her eyes closed, her breathing a cadence of even breaths. His spirits are bolstered to realize that she needs to be near him, and that gives him hope that her hesitancy with him will be over soon.

"I love you, Isabella," he whispers.

As he holds her he imagines she's his mermaid diving into dreamland, lingering somewhere between the waking world and the mystical oceans of her otherworld.

He's her anchor, and he'll never let her drift away again.

.

.

* * *

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	23. Chapter 23 The Father, the Son

_Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn._

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Three / The Father, the Son**

.

"Bella, sweetheart. Wake-up, baby. It's after ten."

Edward sits on the edge of the bed and runs his fingers through her hair. She finally opens up her eyes and blinks three times, trying to adjust to the bright morning light.

"Hey," she says softly, with a sleepy, rough voice.

"Hey," he replies. "I brought you some coffee."

She stretches her arms out and tips her head. "Is it naked?"

"No, it's way too early for naked coffee," he says, grinning. "I made it light and sweet just how you like it."

"You're so good to me." She smiles softly at him.

"I bet I'm nicer than that deadbeat Leonard ever was," he teases.

She rolls her eyes as she slowly sits upright. "Oh, is that what this is about? And here I thought you were using the coffee as a ploy to get a good look at me in my sheer nightie in the light of day."

"Well that, too." Edward eases the sheet down further. "Am I that obvious?"

She pulls the sheet back up to cover her breasts. "Yes, you most certainly are."

He takes a long sip of his own coffee and watches her rub the sleep from her eyes.

"So I thought I'd take you back to Lucca today."

Her smile falls. "Back to Lucca?" Her expression suggests the idea is a punishment. "I don't think I can handle being back there so soon after what happened last night."

"But that's the point, isn't it? You have to get back on the horse, Isabella. Or in this case I'm going to get you on a bike. I thought we could ride bikes around together until you started feeling comfortable about being there."

She makes a face at him.

"It's really great you know. They have a bike path along the top of the wall. We can have a picnic."

Her eyes light up. "A picnic?"

"Yeah, I found an old blanket in the laundry room we can bring with us. I'll bring one of our bottles of wine."

She swings her legs over the side of the bed. "Can I wear my rainbow skirt?" She asks with a smile.

He shakes his head firmly. "Bike spokes, Isabella. We don't want any mishaps do we?"

"True. It probably wouldn't be good to show up black and blue when I meet with Leo tonight. He might wonder about us."

Edward squints as he frowns at her.

"Okay, okay…I won't bring him up again."

.

"Can I have the red one?" Bella asks, grinning.

The bike rental vendor waves his arm. "Si si, any bike for you."

Edward settles things with the Italian man while Bella laughs at her wobbly moves as she makes circles, riding her bicycle around the lot. Edward rolls his bike forward and pulls on his backpack.

He checks his gears and breaks, then mounts the bike. "Ready, Isabella?"

"You aren't going to go all Tour de France on me, are you?"

"No," he laughs. "I'll take it easy on you."

They work their way up a low incline hill that leads to the bike path and fall into sync, riding side by side. The smooth, paved path is surrounded by trees, and dappled with light. From the high vantage point you can look down into maze of the city below.

Edward glances over at Isabella and is happy to see her smiling, her hair flowing behind her like a banner in the wind. Earlier, she tensed up when they approached the parking lot outside the wall, but she seems to be more herself now.

"Wow, this is amazing," Bella calls out, breathless. "I'm glad you brought me here."

Edward grins and nods at her, letting her get ahead of him so he can watch her ride. Her head turns side to side, taking everything in as her legs pump the pedals. He watches men take notice of her as she passes.

_My beautiful girl._

Once they circle the perimeter, Edward pulls ahead of her and points to a path down into the town center.

"Come on, Isabella," he calls out to her. "We're going in."

She looks nervous, but follows close behind him as he pedals through the streets, careful to move around the pedestrians and keep an eye on her. The third time he looks back she's smiling again. He keeps along a route he's confident with which includes a sweep past the church he found her at last night. Finally, he leads her back past the bike rental shop and up the hill again to the top of the wall.

They haven't gone far before Bella suddenly pulls over by a park-style café.

"I'm starving!" she announces.

Taking her cue, Edward lines their bikes up in the bike rack and they head inside.

She pushes him playfully on the shoulder as they approach the counter.

"What?" Edward asks.

"That was quite a ride. You're trying to wear me out, aren't you?"

"No, but do you want me to? That can be arranged. I'd be up for doing the whole thing again."

She rolls her eyes and ignores him. "Ooo, look at the sandwiches!"

"Okay, I'll look at the sandwiches," he teases.

They pick out a container of fruit, two sandwiches, and something that looks like a large cookie. Edward insists on paying.

"I saw a shady patch of grass just down to the left of this building. How's that sound?" she asks as they step back outside.

"Perfect."

They find a cool spot under a big tree and he pulls the blanket out of his backpack and spreads it over the grass while she gets the food out.

.

After their meal and a few glasses of wine, she playfully feeds him grapes while he lies with his head in her lap. She slowly runs her fingers through his hair. The physical intimacy between them has become more relaxed again after falling asleep in each other's arms the night before.

"Let's move to Italy!" he says with a grin. His eyes have been closed, but he opens them to see her reaction.

"Yes, lets!" she says, her fingers tapping his head in excitement. "I'll sell my house, and you can sell…well, whatever…and we can open a…little something. I don't know. But imagine our Tuscan life!" She sighs happily.

"So you'll come here with me?" he asks.

"Yes, of course. Let's live in our little villa on the hill. Can we do that? Maybe we can rent it from Elisabetta's people forever."

"…and ever," he agrees, laughing.

"We can live on these amazing sandwiches and ride our bikes everywhere…"

"And we can skinny dip in our pool then I'll carry you to our bed."

"Do you have a single idea in this scenario that doesn't lead to sex?"

"I doubt it," he confirms. "I can't help it-I'm distracted lying here. Do you have any idea how alluring your breasts are from this angle?"

"Oh, Edward!"

"I swear, I can't tell you how much I want to touch them. Can I, just a little?"

"No, we're out in public in the light of day! Besides…"

"Oh, I know," he says, looking disappointed. "You can't blame a guy for asking though."

.

Back at the villa, Bella is nervous as she prepares to see Leo. She takes a bath and dries her hair. As she studies herself in the mirror, she tries to remember what she looked like the last time Leo saw her. She imagines she was lovely…young, vibrant, and wildly in love. Who doesn't look great in those circumstances?

She figures that she will look less lovely to Leo now, but hopefully he will realize that she's still the woman he once admired. Even though she doesn't hold onto any desire for him, it still feels important to know he could still hold her in high regard. Doesn't everyone want to feel good about themselves for significant reunions?

She realizes that he's probably having the same questions about himself. He's now more than twenty years older than when she saw him last. Have the years been good to him, or have they broken him down?

She sits on the edge of her bed and slowly looks through the photo album she prepared for Leo, of Jacob. She's mentally worn out from years of wondering how he will react when she shares the news. It may be too much to ask for him to want to meet Jacob and form some type of relationship, but she hopes he at least can appreciate what a fine man he's turned out to be.

Bella also wonders how Edward's coping with all of this. Of course he's never hesitated to show his jealousy when it comes to _Leonard_, as he prefers to refer to Leo. She understands his green streak well, as she feels the same whenever she thinks of Lauren. She knows Lauren will always reside in a special place in Edward's heart, as does Leo for her. This is indisputable and a natural part of living a life well loved.

She's empathetic in knowing she wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now. Is it even possible to reassure him? Bella knows that in the obstacle course of a relationship, there isn't any pitfall or daunting challenge insurmountable if you both want to make it work enough. She supposes that this trip to Italy holds a number of such challenges and tonight will surely be one of them.

She pulls on the high-necked, demure sundress she purchased just for this occasion, takes a deep breath, and goes to find Edward to let him know she's leaving. She finds him out on the balcony playing his guitar.

"Okay, it's time for me to go," she says casually, trying to keep it light.

Edward looks up and studies her head to toe before looking back down at his guitar.

"Can you tell me again why he isn't picking you up here, why I can't meet him first?"

She sighs. "When you thought it would be best for me to tell Leo the news alone, I decided that meeting him somewhere else was a way to avoid some the awkwardness of all of this, Edward. There's enough drama for me with my nervousness to tell him about Jacob. Can't you understand that I don't want to add any more tension on top of it? Besides, if it goes well, I assure you that you'll meet him right away. He already knows I'm here with you…my _boyfriend_."

"I suppose," he says, "but this makes me feel rather insignificant, you know?" He strums his guitar once, the sound discordant.

She sighs. "That wasn't my intent. I always seem to do this stuff wrong. You know how important you are to me, Edward. I'm sorry you feel that way. Why don't you change your mind and come with me tonight?"

He looks up at her and reconsiders the idea.

She reaches for her purse. "Here, let me call him and tell him you're coming with me so he knows for the dinner plans."

As she starts to pull out her phone, he stops her.

"No, leave it as it is. It'll be easier if I'm not there."

"Maybe, but I don't want you to be upset. Really, Edward."

"I know," he says.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," he replies, squinting as he looks back up at her.

"What?" She asks.

"You look nice."

"Thank you," she says softly, holding her arms out. "Can I have a hug before I head down?"

He sets his guitar down and stands up, then pulls her into his arms.

Her heart flutters as he holds her. "I love you, Edward," she says softly.

His arms tighten and he presses his lips into her hair before skimming the edge of her ear. "Don't let him touch you, Isabella. I don't think I could take it."

She's sad to realize how wounded he sounds already.

"You know why I'm seeing him, Edward. You need to trust my love for you."

"Okay," he says, without fully meaning it. Even if he trusts Isabella completely, there's no way he can trust this guy who used to be in love with her.

She pulls back and looks up at him. "Besides, it's thanks to you I'm finally doing this after years of wanting to. After tonight, I will no longer feel the guilt, the burden of the fact that Leo doesn't know about his son. This is going to be a huge weight off me and then I can focus on moving forward without this remorse in my heart."

"And you're moving forward with me?"

"That's my plan," she answers. She reaches up and kisses him tenderly on his cheek.

He wishes it were his lips.

"Please wish me luck telling him about Jacob. I'm so nervous it's not going to go well."

"Good luck, baby. You have your cell phone, right?"

She nods and pulls it out of her purse to show him.

"Good. Call me if…well, you know. I can be there in minutes. I already looked up how to get there."

"You did?" she asks with a sad smile, knowing he's worried.

He nods as she turns and heads for the door.

"Please don't worry. I don't know how long this will take, but I'll call to let you know when I'm heading home."

Edward holds back all of the jealous things he wants to say. Instead, he keeps it short and sweet. "Goodnight, Isabella. Remember that I love you."

"I will, and I love you, too," she answers, and she gives him one last smile before closing the door.

He falls back down onto the couch and grips the arm, resisting the urge to run after her. A slow panic starts simmering inside of him. He has a twisted urge to follow her in the car and spy on the two of them. Hell, he wants to run over the guy, leaving Fiat tire tracks across his back.

Yet logically, he knows that Leonard never did anything to deserve his wrath. It sounds like Leonard was honest with Isabella from the beginning of their college romance, and loved her during the time they had together. Even his warm welcome for Isabella to visit him in Italy sounded kind. He might be someone that, in different circumstances, Edward could be friends with. Unfortunately, all Edward wants to do to him now is not benevolent at all.

Edward stands up and heads to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.

It's going to be a very long night.

.

.

When Bella approaches the main square she sees a tall, handsome Italian man standing by the fountain. Her heart skips a beat as she suspects, then realizes, it's Leo. He's wearing glasses now and his hair is peppered with gray but there's no doubt it's him.

When she's about ten feet away he turns and notices her, a broad smile breaking out across his face. "Bella, Bella!" he says as he steps toward her and kisses her once on each cheek. He places a hand on each shoulder and holds her at arms length to study her. "Let me see you. Ahhh, I knew it! Bellisima!" And with that he pulls her into a hug.

It's overwhelming and disorienting to be near him again, to feel his arms around her when only minutes ago those arms were Edward's.

When they separate, she smiles. "It's wonderful to see you, Leo. Really wonderful."

"So shall we sit and start to catch up before we head up to the house?" He gestures toward the local café. He extends his arm to her, and she takes it.

She nods as he leads her forward and settles them at a table in the back of the patio.

A young man with an apron approaches them, and he and Leo break out in conversation in Italian. It's clear they know each other, but Bella realizes that everyone in this town probably knows each other. Everything about Lucca is so different than life in Los Angeles, and she loves that.

Leo stops speaking Italian for a moment to introduce her. The young man gives her a broad grin.

"What would you like, Bella?" Leo asks. "An espresso, or perhaps some vino?"

"How about a gelato?" she asks, grinning.

"See, you haven't changed at all, Bella."

Bella gets a melon gelato, and Leo a coffee, and they talk about Lucca and her initial impressions. He smiles warmly as she recounts all the wonders of life in Italy...the amazing food, the beautiful landscapes and architecture, how warm and welcoming the people are.

When it's Bella's turn to listen, she learns that Leo has lived in his family home in Lucca for the last five years. Being the oldest son, it was expected he would have the villa after his parent's passing, but his father surprised everyone and decided to move out sooner. It seemed that his knee problems had made it difficult to walk and the house had many stairs and he was tired of dealing with the workers to maintain the property. He made the decision for them to live in a large one story flat in the middle of town where everything was close and easy to access. Leo suspected that his mother was also more than ready to surrender the responsibility of the large family gatherings to Leo. He inherited their longtime housekeeper, Gabriella, in the deal.

Leo explains that after being on the move so long, he was finally ready to slow down and drop some roots. Despite the wanderlust of his youth, he discovered that he wanted to be close to his big family after all. He didn't want to miss his nieces and nephews growing up.

This last bit of news gives Bella hope. Maybe he will welcome the idea of Jacob after all.

She studies his face as he talks. His olive skin is tan and smooth despite a few wrinkles. She had forgotten how large and soulful his brown eyes were, and how his Roman nose, strong jaw line, and full lips give him an aristocratic air. She remembers how much she loved kissing those full lips.

"What do you see when you look at me, Bella?" he asks, realizing she's studying him. "Are you disappointed or pleased?"

Her cheeks blush and she looks down before gazing back up at him. "You're still very handsome, Leo."

"And you are even more beautiful," he replies, not missing a beat. "You are a woman now."

She's relieved when the waiter approaches and interrupts his appraisal of her charms.

Leo rubs the lemon rind along the rim of his small cup before taking a sip of his espresso.

She watches this sophisticated and confident, yet subdued man. Where is the passionate Leo she once knew, who would lean forward on the edge of his chair to tell her his latest grand ideas? She admires this man, but she misses the boy who had once stolen her heart.

His phone goes off and he reaches into his jacket to pull it out. He checks it quickly and then slides it back inside.

"So, where is this boyfriend you spoke of? The one you traveled with? I was surprised that you didn't want us to meet…that I couldn't pick you up at your villa."

"Yes, well, it was rather…difficult," Bella explains.

"Difficult?" Leo asks.

"Yes. He's jealous at the idea of you."

"So he understands that we were lovers?" he asks, smiling at the memory.

"Yes," Bella admits.

"Well, what is he to you, this jealous man? Is it serious."

"He's my boyfriend. It's serious, but we're working out some things right now."

"I see," replies Leo. He looks off into the distance. "What's his name?"

"Edward," she says softly, the word burning her lips.

"I understand this Edward's concern. Just look at you, Bella. You're so desirable still, perhaps even more now. You are spending the evening with a man who was once in love with you, deeply in love."

"That was a lifetime ago, Leo."

"Yes, but if he's in love with you, I doubt he feels that way. I very much understand his concern. _I_ wouldn't allow you to be alone with me."

She looks at him wide-eyed, wondering what the real meaning is behind his words. "But he knows I love him," she says.

"You must understand what it is to be a man, yes? A man in love with a woman like you is a formidable thing."

For a moment Bella allows herself to think of jealous Edward back in their villa, playing the guitar on the balcony. He was very unsettled when she left and now Leo's warning has unsettled her too. She hopes he's okay.

.

Leo winds his Alpha Romeo up and over the hills until they approach a large gate opening to a long driveway and a two-story villa of several structures.

"Wow, this is big. Is it just you living here, Leo?"

"Usually," he answers, smiling.

After parking, he shows her the home, which is sparsely furnished, elegant without being too formal. She can tell he's comfortable here by the way he moves through the space. She notices that, besides some family heirloom type paintings, most of the framed photography is his work.

He grabs his camera and leads her outside to show her the property with sweeping views. The villa has a classic Italian garden with olive, cypress, and fig trees. Closer to the house are boxwood hedges and pergolas with grapevines winding around their frames. A series of wisteria vines drape around the windows and doorways. She can't imagine living somewhere so picturesque. Bella leans on a fence at the end of the property that looks over the green rolling hills.

"This is really beautiful, Leo. I'm happy for you."

He smiles and nods, but there's a sadness behind his smile. She wonders if he's lonely. Surely he could have his choice of women to make his wife.

"You have quite the life here."

He listens as he photographs her. The lighting is perfect, warm with just a hint of pink from the setting sun.

"I'm happy for you too, Bella," he responds, finally letting go of his camera so it hangs around his neck. "You seem strong and content with yourself. I admire how you've taken care of yourself."

"Care?" she asks.

He lifts the camera and takes a few more shots. "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but look at your shape. Many women our age have a few children and let themselves go. You look fantastic, Bella."

She turns back to the view, blushing.

"Someone has taken very good care of you. Is it this Edward?"

"He takes good care of me, yes…but I take good care of myself too, thank you."

She turns toward him and links her arm in his as they start back to the house. "You were always one to notice a woman's shape," she teases. "I see that hasn't changed."

He shrugs. "I'm a man, Bella. It's my nature to appreciate the beauty of a woman."

She smiles, but instead on focusing on Leo, she thinks about her Edward and how he shows his appreciation for her in every look and touch. It's almost a relief to realize that she'd rather be with him tonight instead of Leo. As amazing as Leo is, this polished man in his big empty house isn't for her anymore. Her guitar playing lover with the big heart most definitely is.

..~*~..

Edward paces through the rooms, and although Bella had picked up food for his dinner, he can't stand to stay in the house any longer. He storms outside and walks down the hill to the square.

He can tell when the young waitress seats him that she's wondering where his colorful woman is. He wishes he knew as well.

He tries to imagine what this Leonard looks like now and if he took Bella out or brought her home. Maybe he lives in a broken down place and is fat and balding. He suspects that isn't the case though, or he wouldn't be so eager to have her over.

Edward orders a carafe of red and a steak, and starts to brood.

..~*~..

When Bella and Leo enter the house again they're approached by an older woman, her grey hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She is drying her hands on her apron.

"Leonardo, la cena è pronta."

"Grazie," he says, smiling.

"Bella, this is Gabriella, she takes care of the house for me and she's an amazing cook." Bella smiles broadly at the woman and nods her head.

He turns towards Gabriella. "Lei è la donna meravigliosa di cui ti ho parlato."

The old woman smiles back at her before turning to Leo. "È una bellissima donna."

"Si, si," he replies before he leads Bella to the dining room.

"What was that about?" she asks.

"She said you're lovely. I suspect she's always hoping I will find a woman like you, settle down and finally have kids. The woman loves children."

"Why _haven't_ you married, Leo?" Bella asks as she settles into her chair.

He considers the question as he pours out their wine. "I've come close a few times, but I was always on the move, and now that I've slowed down I just haven't met the right woman yet."

"Well, maybe one day soon."

"Hmmm, perhaps," he answers, watching her.

Gabriella brings in the food and as they dig into the pasta, they talk about their journey as photographers. She tells him the story of how she ended up photographing couples. He in turn tells her about traveling the world and the various photography books he has published.

"Do you ever regret leaving school?" she eventually asks him.

"Regret leaving school? No," he huffs. "I knew more than most of those teachers. But did I regret leaving you?" He takes a long sip of his wine and leans forward. "Absolutely."

She can't help but feel pleased by his admission. She always wondered how he felt after he left since he never tried to contact her. "Why didn't you ever call or write, then?"

"My mother convinced me that I wasn't being fair to you. She knew I needed to see the world and that I wouldn't be around as I should. By cutting our ties you would be free to meet a man who would be better for you."

"Your mother convinced you of all this?"

"Italian boys listen to their mothers, Bella. We respect them."

She wonders if Jacob would ever listen to her if she told him how to live his life. She highly doubts it.

"I see," Bella responds, picking at her salad.

She realizes that she's getting very nervous knowing that she's going to have to tell him about Jacob soon. Will she be able to gather the courage to tell him the truth? She can't come all the way to Italy and not resolve what's plagued her for years. She decides to move the conversation somewhere safe and distracting.

"Hey, remember that time in school when Mr. Potts gave us that assignment for a nude self portrait?"

"He was a pervert," Leo says, shaking his head with disgust. "He just wanted to see all the girls naked."

"Yeah, that was a very uncomfortable critique," Bella admits.

"Or how about the one where we were supposed to shoot a landscape at night and we ended up making wild love in the car while the camera took the long exposure," he recounts, smiling.

"And we were halfway home before we realized we had left the camera in the field," Bella remembers, laughing.

"I don't think I've ever driven so fast. Thank God it was still there!" Leo adds.

"I think we played around more than we photographed," Bella adds.

"I'm sure you're right," he agrees, smiling happily.

Bella's feeling warm and fuzzy from the wine. Leo suggests that they move into the sitting room and she follows him on shaky legs. He lights a fire as she settles onto the deep burgundy velvet couch and pulls her bag near her feet.

After he joins her, he takes a sip of wine, leans forward, and brushes some hair off her shoulder. "Why do I get the feeling you're nervous, Bella. Is there something bothering you? Something you want to tell me?"

"Yes," she responds quietly. "Well actually, there's something I want to show you."

He nods. "Okay…"

She reaches down into her bag and pulls out the Jacob photo album. She offers it to him with unsteady hands. "Here, I thought you might want to see this."

He takes the book in his hands carefully and studies the cover. When he pulls it open he sees the first picture of Jacob as a baby. "Who's this?" he asks without looking up, carefully studying each page as he slowly turns the pages.

"That's my son, Jacob," she says quietly.

He turns to her, surprised. "You have a son?" he asks.

"Yes, I do. He's quite extraordinary, really. He's a wonderful young man."

"What's his name?" Leo asks as he looks at his preschool graduation pictures.

"Jacob," she says quietly.

"That's your mother, Renee. Correct?" Leo asks as he looks at a birthday party picture.

"Yes, it is," Bella says smiling. "She's been gone for a while now, but she loved Jacob. She helped me raise him."

"I don't see any pictures with the father. Where is the boy's father?" He asks, sounding curious.

"He wasn't around," she answers simply.

Leo shakes his head as he studies the pictures of Jacob playing with his soccer team in elementary school. "He's a very handsome child," he says.

"Yes, and an even more handsome grown man," she says.

When he gets to his ninth grade portrait, he stops turning the pages and stares at the photo as if he's seen a ghost. Bella realizes as she watches him that he's looking at his own image reflected back at him. This is the age where Jacob really started looking just like his dad. It seems that Leo is realizing the similarity and the truth is starting to sink in.

Bella's heart is pounding so hard she can barely breathe.

"How old is he now?" Leo whispers.

"Twenty-two," she answers, digging her fingers into the cushion of the couch. She can almost hear the calculator in his head working.

A moment later he shuts the book and closes his eyes. She waits for his eyes to open and tell her that he will hear her out, that he won't ask her to leave his home. He lifts himself off the couch and walks to the fireplace, finally leaning forward and resting his forehead on the scalloped edge of the mantle.

She twists her hands together nervously before placing her hand on the cover of the album.

"Who is the boy's father, Bella?" he asks calmly.

"I'm sorry, Leo," Bella replies in a sad voice.

"Who, Bella?"

She stands up and slowly walks toward him, the weight of the world echoed in every step on the fine wood floor. She stops behind him and pauses. She wishes she knew how to do this right.

"You," she finally admits.

His head falls forward, and when she hears a sob, her heart shatters. She reaches out and rests her hand on his back as he gasps for air.

"I'm sorry, Leo. I'm so sorry." In despair, her eyes fill with tears just as he pushes her away and turns around.

"I don't understand. For twenty-two years my son has been in the world and I didn't know. Why, Bella, why?"

For a moment she's so full of disbelief that she's finally told him about Jacob that she feels like she isn't in her body. Everything feels hazy and dreamlike. She forces herself to look up at him.

His expression changes moment to moment as if he is going through the stages of loss, grief, acceptance, revelation, and anticipation within moments-delicate fingers working their way down a string of rosary beads and back. She wishes she knew what she could do to help him understand.

She starts to speak several times, but crumbles internally despite fighting to remain strong.

He waits as if she is about to reveal the explanation that will make sense of all of this. If only she had such soothing words. She looks him in the eyes, then looks away. "Bella?" he asks, with more patience than she feels she deserves.

She presses her hands together and clears her throat as if the words are trapped inside.

"It's hard to explain, Leo."

"You must try," he says. "I need an answer. I deserve one."

She shakes her head. "All these years later it's hard to explain what it was like to be young and alone and to find out I was going to have a baby."

"But you didn't have to be alone," he insists. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. Were you afraid I wouldn't want him?"

"You'd always been so clear about how you felt about kids, Leo. I didn't find out until weeks after you'd left me, after you'd gone back to your life in Italy and never looked back. Honestly, I thought you would be angry and feel trapped."

"Angry…you thought that little of me? He was created from our passion, our love, Bella."

"You had gone off to follow your dreams. You never even called me or wrote. What was I to think?"

"But I am a man of honor. I would have taken responsibility."

"But that's what I was afraid of, that he would be an obligation to you and not a joy."

Leo looks away deep in thought. "You don't know that."

"He was my joy, Leo. My everything."

"I know I was a selfish young man. I'm probably still selfish after living a life just for myself. But I never had a chance…"

Bella sighs. "I know, and I will always regret that…all the 'what if's. I know now I was wrong, but I can't undo it as much as I wish I could.'"

Leo studies Bella's expression and can feel her despair. It weakens the fire behind his anger.

"And that's why I'm here now. I didn't want to live another year without you knowing about Jacob-whether you reject or embrace him. I had to undo the greatest mistake of my life."

Attempting to process everything, Leo silently paces back and forth across the room numerous times before returning to the fireplace. As he rests his arm against the mantle and closes his eyes, he thinks that if he'd heard this news ten or fifteen years ago, he would have been enraged at her not contacting him sooner. But in the wisdom of his older years he knows he has a choice. He can accept this news and try to build a relationship with his son, or he can throw Bella out of his home and let her carry his wrath the rest of her days. Who wins in that scenario? Certainly not he nor Jacob.

He takes a deep breath and knows his decision is made. Meeting his son is more important than anything else from this moment on.

"Oh, Bella," he sighs. He walks over to the couch and sits down, leaning forward on his elbows.

She can tell he's considering everything and she's encouraged that after taking time to think, he's calm.

He looks up at her as she moves to sit down on the other side of the couch.

He lets out a deep breath and clasps his hands together. "At least you're telling me now. He's grown and on his own so you didn't need to tell me but you did. And now I have a chance to be a father in his life. Yes?"

She nods. "Yes."

"There are things I can teach him. And things I can learn from him too," he says, sounding hopeful.

"You know what_ I've_ finally learned this year, Leo? I've learned that all of the biggest decisions in my life aren't just mine to make."

"No, they aren't," he agrees.

"And I've learned that once we love, our lives are interwoven like a tapestry," Bella continues. "To be loved is to walk forward together, to stay woven and not just pull the threads apart."

"I always felt guilty for leaving you, Bella, when I knew you were the woman for me. I chose my own path. I didn't walk forward with you and I know now that I was meant to."

"We were young. What did we know?" she says.

"Maybe we both can learn from our mistakes. I really hope I can be a good father."

The sincerity of his wish and idea of all the lost years overwhelms Bella and she curls forward. "I'm so sorry I wasn't stronger, Leo."

"Yes, but don't you ever say you're sorry for Jacob," Leo insists. "I have a son, Bella. I never thought it would happen."

She leans back. "You really aren't angry?" she asks. "I'd understand if you were."

"Angry? Angry because I have a son? He looks just like me, Bella."

She nods her head, feeling encouraged. "He does. He's very handsome, and you know what else? He's so much like you. He loves The Rolling Stones and fast cars, and he wants to travel the world when he's not saving it from Alzheimer's. He's so wonderful, Leo. He really is."

Leo shakes his head in disbelief. "This is my boy. This is my son."

She wipes her tears away in relief.

He moves over closer to her on the couch and grabs the photo album again and flips through the pages. "This is my son," he chants over and over.

"Yes, it is. I'm so relieved you seem happy about it. I can't even tell you," she says.

"Happy? It's like my life has just begun. Where is he? I need to see him, talk to him. Does he even know about me?"

"I will explain everything, but first I have to say that I hope one day you can forgive me for not telling you sooner. I was so scared and overwhelmed to be pregnant, and then as each year passed it seemed more and more that you'd been a dream."

He points to the photo album. "You have suffered such heartbreak because of me leaving, Bella, but I can see how you did everything for our boy."

"I have lived such a life, Leo. I have lost and won so much."

He wipes the tears out of his eyes and holds his arms open. "Come here, mama."

She slides up close and he wraps his arms around her.

"You need to understand that you have just given me everything. What was my life, my dreams, before tonight? My God, Bella…We have a son."

.

.

* * *

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!  
_

_Imagery and weekly teasers on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

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	24. Chapter 24 Life is Good

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Four / Life is Good **

.

It's a little fuzzy to Edward how he ended up playing someone else's guitar in the café's bar, but he's pretty sure copious amounts of alcohol were involved. Now that he's sobered up a bit, he takes stock of things. There's a middle-aged drummer to his left who appears to be related to the owner, and a young bass player to his right who suggests the next selection to play the moment they're done with a song. As they play, some of the patrons, who appear to be even more intoxicated than him, are loudly singing along to their Beatles's covers in thick Italian accents.

He's surprised how natural playing live feels for him despite the years of not performing. Back in the day he could play in every kind of condition; tonight proves he's not lost that talent. He also notices that the women in the bar are unusually attentive-yet another experience he's surprised he's having once again despite his age.

The young waitress who served him earlier is now perched on a chair and watching his every move while a group of her girlfriends talk around her. When they start playing "She Loves Me," the girls all get up to dance in a group. The waitress is making a show of it since every man in the place seems to admire her. She continues to gaze at Edward and, flustered by her intense attention, he looks away. She must be half his age.

When the makeshift band takes a break, he quickly steps outside to call Isabella, but first he glances at the time on his watch. It's ten-ten. With any luck she's headed home. He pulls out his cell phone and presses the familiar keys. He's very uneasy when the call goes directly to voicemail and he tries again. He fights back the panic building in his gut when the voicemail message comes on directly a second time.

"_Answer your phone, Isabella,"_ he says under his breath, gritting his teeth.

He tries a third time and when it goes to voicemail, he decides to leave a message.

"Isabella, why aren't you answering your phone? I thought I would hear from you by now. Call me and let me know that everything's okay and that you're headed home."

He ends the call and shoves the phone in his pocket. When he looks up, the waitress is on the edge of the patio watching him. She holds up a small glass.

"Look Edwardo, Bruno gave us grappa." She steps forward and offers him the drink. The small glass is frozen and shocking in his warm hand.

"Edwardo?" he asks with an arched brow. She's too familiar for his comfort.

"This is your name, yes? I heard you tell Bruno before."

_She's paying way too much attention,_ he thinks.

"What's this?" he asks, lifting the glass.

"Chilled liqueur from…how you say…the skin of grapes?"

He takes a sip, then finding it tolerable, knocks it back. She slowly sips hers.

He gestures towards the set-up inside. "Well, I better get back. Thanks for bringing the grappa out."

She smiles widely. "You play very good music. You will play more now, yes?"

"Yes," he says, nodding as he heads through the door. He needs to be distracted from his worry about Isabella and playing music is the best option he has at this point.

As the grappa burns through him, things start to fall out of focus again. He's passed another shot, and he unsteadily checks his cell phone between the next few songs and calls her again.

_Fucking voicemail._

The more he wonders about Isabella, the more the air feels thick and hard to breathe. His heartbeat accelerates as the room's walls start closing in. Unnerved, he suddenly rises up and puts down the guitar.

His makeshift band seems to understand, and nods as he pulls away, but the waitress trails after him.

"Edwardo," she says breathlessly. "Don't go. Come have another drink. We can go to my place. My flat's just around the corner." She waves her hand toward the dim street.

_What the hell is happening?_ He feels like he's on some international reality show. What other folly will unfold tonight?

He closes his eyes and suddenly feels the weight of her hand on his chest. Instinctively he bolts forward, swiftly heading away from the bar without looking back.

He's halfway up the hill towards the villa before he slows from a charge to a pace. His mind races with thoughts of Leonard doing God knows what to Isabella. He tries to call her and barely resists hurling his phone against a nearby stone wall when he's thwarted once again.

He wishes he wasn't buzzed on grappa so he could get in the Fiat and go take Isabella away from Leonard's lair. He fantasizes about beating the crap out of the man who unfortunately remains the faceless father of Isabella's only child.

When he approaches the villa Eugenia, it's quiet and dark, a contrast to the rage that's building and burning inside of him.

He grabs a bottle of wine and a glass, throws open all the French doors, and takes refuge on the couch. A minute passes, then twelve, then forty-five. He pulls his fingers roughly through his hair after he glances at his watch the hundredth time.

The bottle makes a dull clunk each time it's emptied a bit more, then abandoned to the wood floor. He shifts sideways and listens hoping to hear a car or sign that Isabella is approaching home. Instead everything's loud in its deafening silence. He makes a fist, then releases it over and over.

He waits.

.

..~*~..

.

In his villa miles away, Leo finally loosens his hold on Bella, and she steps back.

"You're happy," she says, greatly encouraged by his response.

"So happy," he says with wide eyes.

"I'm so relieved," she admits. "I've worried about your reaction for years. I knew I'd be devastated if you weren't happy about Jacob."

"Well, all that worry could have been avoided," he says as he pushes a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. She startles, remembering how he used to do that to her long untamed hair when they were in school.

Bella realizes there's a light in his eyes that was missing until now. It's similar to the light that had shone bright when they were young and had the world at their feet.

He takes her hand and pulls her back to the couch. "Show me the book again, but this time I want to hear everything," he says excitedly.

She holds the album to her chest for a moment, her knees bouncing happily. The moment is so perfect she doesn't allow a sliver of regret to filter in.

_Jacob has a dad that wants him…welcomes him._

This is a moment she will frame and hold in her heart forever.

.

"He was such a happy baby," she says, opening the cover and running her finger along the image of infant Jacob bundled in her arms. "And so curious! He taught himself to crawl early so he could get around and explore."

Leo laughs. "Mamma always said the same of me. I exhausted her."

"As Jacob did me. But it was a good exhaustion. He was everything to me."

He reaches over and squeezes Bella's hand. "I can tell, Bella. Ahhh, and the way he looks at you."

"We've always been close," she says happily.

Time passes without a thought as Bella shares stories, and bit by bit helps Leo develop an more distinct image of his son. He's proud that Jacob was such a good student and so good at soccer, too. She swears his chest puffs up as she talks of his winnings. She explains that when Jacob was twelve he was positively possessed by the sport and fought hard for every victory. Leo tells her he's going to enlarge the picture of Jacob holding up the huge trophy and put it in his office next to where he works.

"And who is this?" Leo asks, studying Jacob's prom picture where he stands proudly with Carly, Angela's daughter.

Bella sighs. "That's Carly. I'm afraid he's still in love with her, and she's moved on."

"How could she not love our Jacob?" he asks, aghast.

Bella has to smile. Leo was always a proud man, but she sees that Jacob has already been put on a pedestal. Surely, in this man's eyes he will do no wrong.

"Well, when they went to college they were on opposite sides of the country…"

"Ah, separated by circumstances," Leo says softly, nodding. "Yes, that is heartbreaking." He gives Bella a knowing look.

"Yes, it is," she agrees.

.

After a second viewing of the album, where Leo has a new round of questions, Bella realizes she needs a break. When he flips through the album yet again, she gets up and heads out to the veranda. As she leans over the short wall to gaze out at the view, she hears Leo's footsteps approaching.

"Are you okay?" he asks, stepping close and resting his hand on her back.

She nods. "Sorry, I'm just overwhelmed." She looks over at him and smiles. "I know that's a bit silly to say that to you considering how you must be feeling."

He rubs his hand gently across her back. "No, I understand. Of course I do. This is extraordinary for both of us, Bella."

He puts his hands on her shoulders and turns her to face him.

"You still haven't told me if my son knows about me."

Her expression saddens. "I'm sorry. No, he doesn't. All he knows is that I loved his dad, but sadly he moved away before knowing I was pregnant. He believes I had no idea how to reach you."

Leo nods and turns away.

"I've been waiting for it to come up again at some point, since now with the internet anything is possible. But honestly, his graduate work has taken everything out of him. He's just trying to stay focused and get through the program."

"I understand," Leo says, turning back to face her.

His defeated look breaks Bella's heart, and her expression falls.

He reaches up and touches her chin. "Can I meet him, Bella? Please. I need to see him…know him. I want him to know me." He's anxious, as if he's not sure she will allow their meeting.

"Of course," she says. "I was just thinking that he will be done with school in four weeks. Why don't I tell him then?"

"That is like a million years in my heart," Leo says sadly. "Can I at least come when you tell him?'

"You'd come to the US?" Bella asks.

"Of course," he replies.

"If it's okay with you what I'd like is the chance to tell him alone, let him process it. I will answer his questions, and then the next night we can all meet. Would that be okay?"

He smiles, feeling hope again. "Yes! Of course, that is a good plan. We shall do that!"

He pulls her into a hug. "Mama," he says softly in her ear.

She smiles and leans into him. "Papa," she answers back, amazed at the swirl of emotion she feels calling him that.

He shudders and brushes his own tear away. She pulls back, surprised.

"What, Leo?" She looks up at him, concerned about his sudden change in mood. "Are you okay?"

"I can't believe it. It's like a dream, Bella." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Papa," he says with reverence. "I'm a papa."

She reaches up and straightens his collar. "And you will be a good papa. He'll be very impressed to see the kind of man you are."

"What kind of man do _you_ think I am?" he asks her.

"Accomplished. Smart. Good hearted…"

"Anything else?" he asks. "You said I was still handsome, earlier."

"Yes, I did," she admits as she exhales. "That, too."

He slides his finger under her chin and lifts it up so she faces him. "And you, Bella…"

Overwhelmed by his intensity, she closes her eyes. A moment later, she's shocked by the feel of his lips on hers and his arms pulling her close. For a single heartbeat, she remembers not just that he's Jacob's father, but the first man she ever loved with her heart and soul.

Yet in that instant, she also realizes that everything feels wrong about this. When she opens her eyes reality hits her with a deafening roar.

_This isn't Edward, the man she loves who's waiting for her return._

"Stop," she gasps as she pulls away, but he holds on tighter.

"I know you feel this thing between us, Bella. It's powerful," Leo declares.

She finally breaks away from his grasp and steps back. "Of course, this is emotional for us, Leo. That would be expected," she insists.

"It's more than that, Bella, and you know it," he insists. "You can't deny it. We need to have some time together to figure this out. Please, I want you to stay with me."

"Stay with you?" she whispers with disbelief. Her stomach starts churning as she thinks of the kiss and how Edward will react when he finds out.

"I need you with me tonight, whether we just talk or more. Please give me that at least. We've already lost so much time."

He reaches out for her again. "Please."

She shakes her head. "Edward," she says.

"He must wait," Leo insists. "This is important, Bella. There is much to resolve."

"No," she says, stepping further back. "I love Edward, Leo. And I know we need to talk more, but it won't be tonight. I could never do that to him."

Leo turns away, his jaw tense. She can feel his frustration as he tries to hold it back. Finally, something shifts and he takes a deep breath, and with its release his stance softens.

"All right, Bella. Maybe we both need some time to adjust. But we're not done. This is just the beginning."

"The beginning of your relationship with Jacob, your son," she reminds him.

Despite her response, she knows he's right. Whatever the future holds, Leo's now a part of it and not only for Jacob. She'll be communicating with him, too. How will this all work now that he crossed a line and kissed her, insisting that he wants more. She's hopeful that it was just an impulse reaction to all the news about Jacob.

Regardless, she's filled with guilt over the kiss and worried about Edward. She doesn't want to be with Leo but will Edward feel secure enough to believe that? Only time will tell what all of this means to them.

.

..~*~..

.

The ride back to the villa is heavy with their silence. Leo masterfully handles the winding roads at a speed Bella would normally balk at, but in this moment she is grateful. She needs to get home quickly. They're almost to the villa when Bella remembers that she was supposed to call before he dropped her back off. She hopes Edward's all right.

When they pull up to the property, Leo leans down to study the villa through his windshield.

"It's dark. Are you sure he's home?"

She gives him a look. "Yes, I'm sure he's home. It's late, Leo."

He lifts his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Go to your man, Bella. But remember the father of your son is waiting. Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Not a big talk tomorrow. I'll contact you in the afternoon to set up another time, okay?"

His fingers grip the steering wheel and he looks out over the car's hood into the dark night.

"Okay. Tomorrow then."

She turns toward him. "Thank you, Leo…for tonight."

He faces her with a sad smile.

"Yes, what a night, Bella. What a night."

He nods his head as she steps out of the car and closes the door.

She doesn't hear him drive off until the villa's front door is firmly shut behind her.

Smoothing out her hair and then her skirt, she heads down the hallway of the dark house.

..~*~..

Bella heads straight up to the bedrooms and peeks in on Edward, assuming he's asleep. She startles when she realizes that he isn't there and his bed's still made. It certainly hasn't been slept in tonight. She grips the doorknob and wonders where he could be.

"Edward?" she calls out, worried.

He doesn't answer, but a few moments later she hears a guitar chord. She tentatively enters his room and moves towards the French doors that open to the balcony. When she steps out on the balcony, she sees him sprawled out on the loveseat. His head is tipped back with his eyes closed. She looks down and notices the wine bottle and abandoned glass on the tile floor. His fingers rake over the guitar strings again and the sound jars her.

"Edward," she says with more insistence.

He opens his eyes, squinting at her as if her image is burning his eyes. He closes his eyes and nods slowly at her. She's never seen him look drunk like this.

"He drives a fast car," he says, loosely gesturing to the street that Leo just pulled away on.

"Yes," she agrees.

"You never answered your phone. I called so many times and you were gone so long. Thought you weren't coming back."

"Of course I came back, Edward." She feels horrible that he doubted her.

"I was waiting forever," he moans.

"I'm sorry you got upset but it looks like you kept yourself occupied," she says, picking up the empty wine bottle. She steps to the railing and looks down to imagine what Edward saw when she and Leo pulled up.

"Yeah well, I really didn't have a choice, did I?" he responds.

She studies him for a moment. He had plenty of choices, but she can't help but feel somewhat responsible for his current state.

"Oh Edward, so an entire bottle of wine was your only option?" she asks gently.

"Oh, that was just the capper. I had wine also with dinner at the café, and grappa while I was performing in the bar," he insists, like he's proud of that fact.

"Grappa?" she asks. "You performed?"

"Yeah. It seriously can kick your ass."

"Well, it certainly looks like it kicked yours. Look, I'm really sorry I didn't hear my phone ring. Maybe I didn't get reception up at his house." She sighs as she watches his eyes roll. "Why don't you get to bed, Edward. We can talk about everything in the morning. I'm home safe now. And make sure and drink water and take Tylenol. I'll bring you some."

She turns and starts back through the room when he calls out to her.

"Was he good to you, Bella? Was he everything you hoped he'd be?"

She freezes in her tracks, knowing she shouldn't engage with him in this state, but she can't seem to help herself.

"He's happy to know he has a son, if that's what you're asking," she says.

"I bet he was," he slurs. "And I bet he's happy you're the mom."

She steps away. "I'm going to bed, Edward. Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

He jumps up and follows her on unsteady legs, and when he catches up to her, he grabs her wrist.

"Hey! Don't go. We aren't done talking."

She tries to shake her wrist free. "Please don't do this Edward. Please let go of me. We can talk about all of this when we're clear-headed in the morning."

"Why? What's wrong?" he asks. He flips the bedroom light on and even though it's soft, they both still squint as their eyes adjust.

"Edward," she says with a patient voice.

"Wait," he says, taking a deep breath. "Why were you crying?"

She brushes her fingers under her eyes and then sees traces of runny mascara on her fingers.

"It was an emotional evening, Edward."

"Oh," he says looking down at her lips.

She doesn't like the look on his face and she starts to turn.

"Wait, wait," he says, and Bella takes a step back.

"What?"

"Your lips…" He runs his fingers over her bottom lip. "You kissed him, didn't you?"

His voice is very dark and unsettling.

"Stop it, Edward!"

"I can see it, Isabella. Tell me the truth."

She lets out a long sigh. "No, I didn't kiss him. He caught me off guard and kissed me, then I pushed him away and told him to drive me home."

Edward steps back, aghast. "He touched you, didn't he? It's as if I can feel it. It's like his fingerprints are all over you!"

"What are you talking about?" she asks.

"This is where it starts, isn't it," he slurs.

"Please stop it Edward. It wasn't like that, I swear."

He sways as he leans forward. "Did you fuck?"

"Oh no, how can you ask me that?"

He pulls her back. "I have to know, Isabella. I have to know. It will kill me."

In her upset, she wants to walk away, but she knows this would be a trying situation for any man. If she were in his shoes she might have gotten drunk and angry tonight, too. She knows she needs to answer him.

"No, I assure you that we did not fuck."

"Why not? I'm sure he wanted you."

"Yes, I suppose he did, since you insist on asking. But we didn't fuck. Do you want to know why?"

He nods, his face suddenly looking frightened.

"Because when I looked up into his eyes, he wasn't you. You are the only man I want. You are the man I love."

"Bella," he moans, reaching for her with his free hand.

She steps further back. "_You_ are who I want…but we are both upset and we need to calm down."

Edward lets go of her wrist.

"I know this is hard on you, but you need to believe in me. I don't want to be with Leo and I'm sad that you wondered if I did."

Edward pushes his hands in his pockets and looks down.

"I'll tell you what," Bella continues. "I'm completely drained and need to sleep, and you need to sleep off all that liquor, so please Edward, please…can we just talk in the morning?"

He silently nods at her before turning away.

"Goodnight," she whispers.

When she reaches her bedroom, she peels off her clothes quickly, pulls on her nightie, and slides into bed without washing her face or brushing her teeth. Thankfully her exhaustion is numbing her heartache. Every part of tonight has been too much. She has never been so relieved to surrender to sleep.

.

..~*~..

.

By eleven the next morning, Edward still isn't out of bed, and Bella decides enough is enough. She packs a bag with towels, her swimsuit, and sunscreen. Then from the kitchen she makes sandwiches and tucks them into the bag, adding bottles of water and fruit. Finally, she gathers two Tylenols and the water she promised him last night and takes it to his room.

She pushes open his door to find him flopped across his bed still fully dressed.

"Edward," she calls out. "Edward!"

He stirs and slowly lifts his head.

"What?" he says, in a muddled voice.

"You need to get up."

He drops his head back down.

"Now," she urges.

"No," he grumbles into the duvet cover.

"Sit up!" she insists playfully.

"Can you leave?" he asks, his eyes wedged shut.

She walks over to him and yanks on his hair gently. "Come on...please."

His eyes blink open. "Did you really just pull my hair, woman?"

She nods. "Uh huh. Sit up."

"Jesus," he grumbles and twists his body on the bed and slowly rises. "What do you want?"

She studies him as she unscrews the water. She hands him the bottle and after he drinks some, she hands him the two Tylenol. "Take these."

He gives her a frustrated look, but takes the pills and washes them down. After setting the near empty bottle on the nightstand he roughly rubs his hands over his hungover face.

"Damn, I feel like hell," he groans.

"Undoubtedly," she says. "Okay, I'm going to make you some strong coffee. Jump in the shower and we'll leave shortly."

"Leave? Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to the beach."

He smirks and falls back on the bed. "Oh, no you're not. You're nuts."

"Maybe, but you're going with me, even if I have to drag you there."

He groans loudly. "I'm much bigger than you. I don't think that's possible."

She grabs his ankle and starts to pull hard. Of course she doesn't accomplish anything but pulling his jeans down several inches.

He smirks. "Keep at it, woman, and you're going to get a show."

She drops his ankle, exasperated, and puts her hands on her hips. "Please Edward, please. We need to talk, and I want to go to the beach."

He props himself up on his elbows and watches her with a concerned expression.

"All right. Don't get upset, Isabella. I'll come."

She smiles softly at him. "Thank you." She turns to walk out and turns around as she gets to the door. "Bring your swimsuit. All right?"

"Sure, whatever you want, bossy lady."

.

Down in the kitchen she's just finished making some toast and coffee when he ambles in dressed in swim trunks and a white T-shirt. His hair's wet and combed back, and his beard's almost full now.

He holds his hands out. "Look, I'm ready."

She hands him his mug of coffee. "I see that. You look better already."

He holds up the travel mug with the drink spout. "Thanks, but what's this?"

"I found that in the cupboard. I thought I could drive while you have your coffee and toast. That way we can get there faster."

His expression falls. "Why are we in such a hurry?"

She turns to get her bag. "Well, it's past eleven and I've been waiting all morning. I'm just excited to see the beach here. Okay?"

"Sure, okay." He follows her out to the car still wondering what the rush it about.

"I'm driving," she says, pushing him towards the passenger door.

He settles into his seat and tries not to worry about what's ahead. They remain silent as she winds down the hills and makes her way onto the autostrade. When he glances over at her, her mind seems as full of deep thoughts as his. He wonders if his drunken behavior last night, or at least what he can remember of it, was some type of last straw for her.

He folds his arms over his chest as he stares out the window.

What if this is it? He thought they were making progress, but everything feels shaky again.

_Damn Leonard, Mister Baby Daddy, and his hold on her now._

When they arrive at the beach, Edward goes to the attendant and pays for their beach set-up and small changing shed. Isabella slips inside then comes out in her two-piece. Watching her walk toward him, he gets stirred up with want even though he knows he shouldn't. She takes his hand and leads him towards the shore.

"Come on, we're going in."

"Already? I thought we'd lie out or have lunch first or something."

She keeps marching forward. "No. I need to tell you something, get this off my chest, and I need to do it in the water."

His stomach curls with apprehension, but he follows her across the coarse sand, and into the lukewarm water lapping at the shore. She pulls him in deeper and finally lets go and dives under. He follows her, and when he stands up, he shakes the water off like a dog.

She swims further out and he shadows her, finally calling out her name.

"Stop, Isabella. You're making me crazy. Will you please just tell me what this is all about before I have an anxiety attack or something?"

She looks over at him surprised, as if she doesn't realize how she's freaking him out.

"Please," he begs.

She nods. "Okay." She pushes her wet hair off her face and swims over to him. Once they're facing each other, she takes his hands in hers.

"Okay, are you ready?"

He swallows hard, then nods. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Here's the thing. I had a lot of time this morning to think about all of this."

"Yes...?" he prompts. "By all of this do you mean what happened last night?"

"No, not just last night…all these things. Leo now being in my life, our big fight, my paralyzing fear that you will leave if I give you my heart again."

"All that?" he asks, sounding defeated.

"Yes. It's a lot, right?"

"Well, it's not exactly a walk in the park."

"So this morning, I finally found clarity while I was taking out the trash."

"Great. You thought of me while taking out the trash." He bends his knees and sinks lower in the water. "I can't avoid the symbolism, and it isn't helping my anxiety."

"Your anxiety?" she asks. "So you're really that tense?"

"Can't you tell? I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin."

She steps behind him and starts rubbing his wet shoulders. "Ooo, you are tense. I'm not trying to stress you out. Why don't you try floating like I do? That'll help relax you."

"I just sink, Isabella. I don't have your special gifts."

"Maybe not, but you have your own." She places a kiss on the back of his head. With each moment passing of her touching him he relaxes a bit more.

The water moves gently around them, holding them up yet always shifting. The subtle rocking is comforting.

He lets out a long sigh. "I'm sorry I was such an ass last night. My jealousy made me crazy. I don't remember feeling _that_ jealous before it my life…ever."

"Yes, it was hard to see you like that," she says.

He sighs. "I guess you could consider that a compliment."

"Because you don't want another man to have me?"

He shakes his head slowly. "No, I don't. Are you trying to tell me something here? Does he have you, Isabella?"

She thinks about his question as she slowly glides around to his front again to face him. She sinks back down in the water to wet her shoulders, then eases back up.

"He has my appreciation for welcoming Jacob as his son. But you, Edward…" She reaches out and places her open palm over his heart and then does the same to herself with her other hand. "…_you_ have my heart."

He blinks at her, feeling a swell of emotion, but he's afraid to pull her into his arms until she's done saying what she needs to say.

She clears her throat. "When I took the trash out this morning, I must've stepped onto the street right when this poor young woman had crashed her bike. I'm not sure what happened, but she was on the ground and the bike was lying on top of her. Her boyfriend was following a distance behind for some reason, and when he saw what happened he literally lept off his bike and ran to her, lifted her bike away, and pulled her into his arms."

"Was she okay?" Edward asks, looking concerned.

"It was all very dramatic, but when I got over to them, other than some minor abrasions, she seemed to be fine. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but her boyfriend was so sweet and attentive. He took such good care of her."

Edward smiles as he realizes the poignancy of the moment. "We men love to save our women."

"Yes, you do," she agrees. Her hands now swirl the water around them as they stand facing each other.

"You want to take care of me, and love me, and know that I won't be with another man. What happened last night wasn't fair to you, Edward. After what occurred with Lauren, that must have been torture for you to know I was with someone who I had loved, who had loved me. Yes, he caught me off guard, but I can't tell you how much I wish he hadn't kissed me."

He looks at her with relief to know she understands that it was his worst kind of agony.

"Yeah, there's times like last night that I thought I shouldn't have come on this trip…that maybe it's time for me to go home. I'm not going to lie, Isabella. It killed me that you were alone with him when you don't fully want me still. And the fact that he kissed you…"

"Oh, Edward," she says softly.

"I need you to be mine only. I know that's more than you're willing to give right now, and that's so hard for me," he says.

"You know I was alone so long that it's hard for me to remember the natural expectations of being a couple," she says. "I think that's part of why our fight got so out of control. I've always just charged through decisions by myself, but now there's you."

He nods. "Yup, there_ is _me_._ And I want it to be, _now_ _there is us_."

"Maybe being around Leo last night reminded me what a mistake it is to just let time pass without having the courage to trust my heart," Bella says. "I love you so much Edward, and I don't want to lose a single moment with you." She moves closer and places a hand on each of his shoulders. "So what I want to tell you is that I'm not going to be afraid anymore."

"Afraid?" he asks.

"Afraid of you leaving me, afraid of us not working. I just want to love you, and you to love me."

"You do?" he asks, wanting to be sure about what she means.

She smiles sweetly, looking up at him. "Will you be my boyfriend _and_ lover again? I don't want to be safe and slow with my heart anymore when it comes to you."

"Oh, thank God," he groans, as he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her closer. "You dragged me out here to give me good news. Hell, all I want to do is love you and be with you, Isabella."

"And I just want to love you." She rests her forehead against his. "Love you so big…like all the way to the moon and back."

His heart is pounding as she feathers kisses along his bearded jaw up to his ear.

"You know what you're doing to me, don't you? Saying that to me and being so close me like this," he says, his exhale ragged.

"I do," she whispers, running her hand across his chest and pressing her lips against his neck. "I want to do all the wonderful things to you, Edward."

He moans as she catches his earlobe between her teeth.

"Will you love me all the way, Isabella?" he asks with an edge in his voice.

"All the way," she sighs, smiling.

"Ahh, I can't wait to get you home, baby."

It's Bella's turn to moan as his hands slide deeper into the water and cups her ass, then pulls her against him.

Her arms wind around his neck and their lips meet and tell their own passionate story. They sink down into the water and she wraps her legs around him. She has no idea when she has ever felt this light and buoyant yet so heavily full of want.

"See, we're cleansed again," she says.

"Just in time to get dirty," he teases. "I've got my Isabella back."

"I'm yours only, Edward, and you know what?"

"What?" he asks, his lips against hers as his hands wander all his favorite places.

"I want to make love to you in every room of our villa," she insists as her hands wander too, moving lustfully over the evidence of his want.

"And in our pool," he adds. His eyes alight, he smiles sexily and kisses her again and again, as they make their own waves in the water.

Like the remaining piece of a complicated puzzle being eased into place, their emotions and passion align together instead of apart. In that perfect moment, hope and joy surrounds and settles them. They have Italy, and the warm sun on their heads, the Mediterranean sands at their feet. Life is good.

.

.

* * *

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_abbie_

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_

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	25. Chapter 25 Bigfoot Unleashed

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Five / Bigfoot Unleashed**

.

Side by side, Bella and Edward lie in their beach loungers facing the Mediterranean, their fingers tightly intertwined. Edward lifts their joined hands and kisses her fingers gently, smiles, then looks back towards the view.

"This is good," Bella says, stretching out her legs.

"So good," he agrees.

"What are we going to do later?" she asks.

"_You know_ what we're going to do later," he says, grinning ear to ear.

She gives him a look over her sunglasses. "Well of course, that's a given. I meant after _that_."

"Go out to eat?" he suggests. "I'm sure we'll be hungry."

"True. Very hungry for sure."

She turns on her side to face him and lightly runs her fingertips along his inner arm. "What adventure shall we have tomorrow? Florence, Sienna, San Gimignano, the Cinque Terra?"

He grins happily. "I'll do whatever you want to. I'd rather just stay in bed with you all day, but I suppose we have plenty of time for that later." He pulls a piece of fruit out of her bag and polishes it on his T-shirt.

She watches him eat the pear and wishes she were the fruit, sliding against his lips, feeling his teeth press against the flesh.

His tongue trails the juice that runs down his chin. He looks over and notices how intently she's watching him. "You want a bite?" he asks grinning, holding the pear toward her.

_If he only knew,_ she thinks before helping herself, her eyes fluttering closed in the perfection of the moment. The sweet bite melts slowly against her tongue.

She feels a finger brush just below her messy lip and she opens her eyes to see him put his thumb in his mouth and slowly pull it out.

"Sweet," he whispers.

.

As they fly down the autostrade home, the most delicious feeling settles over them. There's sand between toes, tangled salty hair, and a hint of sunburn while love sizzles just under warm skin. Everything's tempered by a lazy afternoon in the sun.

He hums a tune as he drives, smiling, lost in a memory. She thinks she recognizes the melody. Is it the song he's written for her? She desperately wants to hear it, imagining it's a love letter he wrote before they got off track. Now it will be a celebration that they found their way back to each other.

She sighs and, inspired, she reaches into the bag for her camera. While he drives she starts scanning through all the pictures she's already taken in Italy. Some of them are picture postcard good.

"Do you like what you have so far?" he asks, glancing over.

"The shots from today after the swim are the best ones," she says, smiling. "You look so happy."

"Yeah, I _am_ so happy, Isabella…because of you."

.

When he pulls up to the villa and stops, she jumps out of the car and runs for the front door. He watches her get the door open and rush inside while he shuts down the engine.

_Anxious, baby?_ He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters to the entry. The anticipation of being with Isabella threatens to overtake him, but he doesn't want to hurry this. He's already waited so long. Holding on tight to his reserve, he works his way up the stairs. He sees that the bathroom door is shut so he tentatively pushes the door to her room open, realizing he hasn't been welcomed inside until now.

For a moment he's taken aback. He'd forgotten about the website pictures of the grand canopy bed surrounded by gauzy curtains. It looks like something out of a movie.

Something else captures his eye. He takes a step toward the bed and realizes it's a framed picture on the bed stand. As he gets closer, he recognizes that it's a photograph of him from the studio shoot they did several weeks ago.

His heart speeds up realizing she packed and brought this with her before she even knew he was joining her on the trip. Something about this simple gesture and how it reflects how she was feeling then, stuns him. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the thick carved post of the canopy bed.

_Isabella._

He looks down to the white covers and imagines her stretched across the linens. He thinks about all the ways he'll show her how much he's missed her. He pictures undressing her, kissing her, all the while telling her what's in his heart…

"Edward?" she calls out from the doorway.

"Yes," he replies. His gaze meets hers with the same yearning.

"I couldn't find you." She smiles shyly. "You're in my room. I thought we'd be in yours?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, I guess that room exudes sex to me now that I saw you touching yourself in there."

He loves that she's so honest, and unknowingly provocative. Just watching the way she bites her lip as she waits for his response arouses him.

"Really? I could touch myself in here, too," he teases, grinning.

"Or I could touch you," she says, walking to him.

"Yeah, I'd like that much better," he says, pulling her close.

She slides her hand down between them until it's pressed over him. Her fingers tighten over his arousal and she sighs. "Yes."

"Mmmm," he moans, closing his eyes for a moment._ Slow,_ he tells himself, fighting his natural instincts.

He gazes at her, gently pushing her hair off her shoulder, running his fingers down her neck.

"Can I ask you something, Isabella?"

"Of course," she answers, her eyes wide as her hands move up to his hips.

He turns toward the bed stand and points at his photograph.

"Why is that picture here?" he asks gently.

She smiles sweetly and sighs. "I had a moment when I was packing."

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. "Were you missing me?"

She closes her eyes and nods, a look of sadness on her face. "So much. So very much."

"Oh, baby," he whispers, cupping her chin and kissing her tenderly.

When they pull apart she looks back to the picture. "I had to have you here with me, even if you weren't actually going to be here."

She runs her hands over his chest and rests her cheek against his shoulder. He shakes his head and sighs.

"I think I was going nuts at that point trying to figure out how to talk to you, how to convince you to give me another chance," he says.

"Oh, Edward." She looks up into his eyes. "I may have been mad at you when you got so hurtful, but I never stopped loving you."

"Never?"

"No, never. I'll always love you."

He sweeps her up in a powerful embrace, as if it were their first time to find each other. The kiss is a match struck-setting each other on fire. Her skins turns pink everywhere he touches, shadows of light cast from his desire.

Her gauzy white cover-up is slowly lifted over her thighs, her belly, her breasts, and then gently over her head. He sets out to kiss every new freckle sprinkled across her shoulders while she deftly unclasps his belt and pulls his pants open. When his khaki shorts are pushed down and her hand is wrapped around him, he feels the heat shimmer off her in waves.

"You want _me_," he breathes into her ear.

"I _need_ _you_," she says. She moans as she begins to stroke him.

Determined to draw things out, he moves even more deliberately, unclasping her swimsuit top and slowly peeling it away from her breasts. The way his appreciative gaze softens makes her feel like he's unwrapping a treasure. She watches him bend to take her nipple in his mouth.

_How could anything feel this good?_ She pushes off her swimsuit bottoms then pushes her hips against him. She wants to fall to her knees and take him in her mouth, but she wants him inside of her more. Patience was never her virtue.

He lifts her effortlessly onto the bed.

"Oh, God. Oh, God," she whispers as he crawls over her, desperation in his eyes.

"We need to go slow," he warns. "I've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

"How slow?" she asks anxiously, grasping him in her hand and rubbing him back and forth over her.

"Slow," he groans, teasing as he pulls away and pushes himself up on his knees. She undulates as he watches, seducing, arousing, her hands running over her breasts and down to her hips. She is spread wide, every part of her open for him.

"Please," she begs, her eyes dark, watching…hopeful.

He swallows hard as he holds onto his last thread of restraint. She has no idea all the things he wants to do with her.

His fingers move down between her legs and dip and stroke. "Slow, baby," he whispers. As he continues, her hands move back up to her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples.

He nods. "Yes, yes," he encourages. His fingers cause tremors, her hips rocking against his touch. He knows her body so well now and he masterfully leads her to her place of unfathomable pleasure, where she's grasping at the sheets and moaning his name.

When she unravels and climaxes while crying out passionately, she gives him her trust, her vulnerability completely unguarded as she lies open. He leans over her so that they're eye to eye. He wants to look inside her. He wants to see everything.

"I love you, Isabella," he says softly.

"Edward," she whispers, looking up at him as she catches her breath. "I love you, too." She pulls him into a kiss, and while their lips meld together, he begins to push inside of her, inch by inch. When she is completely full of him, they take a moment to let every feeling work through them. He holds his hips still as he kisses her full on again.

"Oh yes," she sighs as their slow dance finally begins. His hips purposefully rise and fall as she wraps herself around him. She can feel his energy shift with every reassurance. "You're all I'll ever want," she gasps.

His power hums, lit up as every circuit breaker flips on. She's never been loved with such passion. He's consuming her completely, and she's sure by the end there will be nothing left of her.

They tumble and reach, push hard and pull back. Their skin, slick with sweat and flushed with determination. With each stroke and staggered breath, they fight for everything they've lost until they crawl their way back into each other's hearts.

He's so high that he's flying, and she's tight in his arms.

"Isabella," he cries out as he lets go and soars. She clings onto him, her eyes full of tears as he gives her everything he has.

Against the odds, against the tides, they've pushed through the darkness. They've found the rhythm of their love once again.

.

..~*~..

.

Long after their climax, they're wound together in a tangle of sheets. As the time passes she considers the idea that they should never leave this bed again. Everything feels so perfect.

Edward takes a deep breath and pulls her closer.

"Happy?"

"Mmmm. I've missed this so much."

Her fingers trace across his chest, and he kisses her forehead.

"I thought I had to endure this entire trip without having you. I wasn't sure I was going to make it," he says.

"Me too," she sighs. "That night I walked in on you. I was just about to crawl on top of the bed and then…"

"Yes?" he asks, surprised at the thought of it.

"Well, I didn't move quickly enough."

"What a shame. It would have been infinitely more satisfying being inside of you."

"Yes. But I must say watching you was really hot. I was undone."

"Hmmm. Really?"

"You were magnificent. I love your body so much, and the way you move…"

He feels her rake her fingernails up his thigh. He looks down at the red trail she's marked him with and her seductive gaze. "Well, let's just say that in that moment I was thinking of you, and you were moving as well," he says.

"Moving? How was I moving?" She curls into him. As she hitches her folded leg over him, she discovers exactly how much this conversation is exciting him all over again.

"You were on top of me, doing that slow thing you do with your hips. Oh God, Isabella, the way that feels. And to see the look in your eyes, and then your breasts…"

"Go on," she encourages.

"You know I love your breasts, and how you lean over and want me to…wait, where are you going?"

She sits up and pulls away from him, but instead of getting off the bed, she shifts her body and straddles him. She smiles ever so slightly.

"I thought if you're not too tired we might try that out? The look in your eyes when you want me…I swear, it makes me wild." He can feel her anticipation as she pulls her shoulders back and waits for his response.

He smiles as his hands slide down to her hips, and he eases her closer. Watching her for a minute, he appreciates Isabella in all her glory. Her beauty is beyond just what his eyes can see: creamy skin to caress and enchanting eyes to watch, full breasts to kiss and strong shoulders that can take on him, _and_ the world. She is full of life…she is everything to him. Even in the fading light of the room, as the purple shadows fall across the pale linens, she glows brighter than anyone ever has.

She slowly leans forward and his hands reach up, cupping her soft breasts, his tongue runs over each nipple, until his lips tighten over her. She lets out a long, low groan. Her hips start to move, all her desire working over him, seducing him.

His thighs tighten when she finally lifts her hips up just enough. He knows in the next moment she will shift and he'll be right where he needs to be. He wants the feeling again and again. He can never get enough of her.

"Take me, Isabella," he moans as she sinks down, until they are joined completely.

"I'm yours."

.

..~*~..

.

For dinner, they end up opening a bottle of wine and throwing together a meal at home. They eat on the patio, barefoot and freshly showered.

"Everything tastes better here," he says, as he takes his last bit of pasta.

"Really? This is nothing fancy," she says, nodding toward the spread.

"Maybe that's why. It's simple and good. Like me," he says, laughing.

"Oh, yeah. You're sooo simple."

"I think I am," he insists.

She rolls her eyes and picks up a guidebook. "I'm thinking Florence tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Sure," he says, shrugging. "I'm easy."

"And simple," she adds, grinning.

"Are we going to the Uffizi?"

"And to see David," she says.

"Michelangelo's David? There you go again, making me compete with other men for your attention. By the way," he says, popping an olive in his mouth. "Are we done with Leonard this trip?"

"Shoot!" Bella exclaims. "I promised to call him today. I agreed that we would talk again."

Edward makes a face. "Well, you can bet that I'm coming on that get together."

"Yes, I want you to meet him."

"Well, that isn't what I had in mind. I'm going to be your bodyguard. He lays a finger on you and I'm breaking it off."

"Lovely," she says, rolling her eyes. "No, actually, I thought you should come since he will be in Jacob and my life now. It won't be a frequent thing, well not for me at least, but he will be there so you need to meet him and he needs to meet you."

Edward grits his teeth. "Great. Just great. The Italian ex-lover will be a nice mix into our assortment of challenges."

"We don't have that many," she argues.

"Maybe not. But we've got a really big one to work through and it's currently on your mantle."

She looks melancholy. "Yes, you're right. But let's not think about that now."

He studies her carefully. "Okay, not now. But when we get home we have to come to an understanding, a compromise."

"Yes, yes. You're right, a compromise" she agrees. "We will do that. But meanwhile…"

Edward raises his brows.

"Can I call him and take care of this?"

"Right now?"

She makes guilty face. "Yeah, now. I want to get it over with."

"Why don't you let me call him?" He smirks. "I mean, in case you're worried about it or something."

"Gee thanks, but I'm not_ that_ worried about it. Besides, I made it clear that I'm _your_ woman, and I'm loyal to the man I love."

He nods reluctantly. "I guess it's okay. Go ahead."

She finds Leo in her contact list and presses the screen.

Edward watches her as she gazes into the distance waiting.

"Hi Leo," she says, her expression suddenly more alert. She pauses. "Yes, it was good to see you, too. Yes, sorry. We were at the beach all day. We just got home."

She squints her eyes at Edward and shakes her head when he laughs at her white lie.

"Well, that would be lovely, really. Thank you for suggesting that, but I was thinking that it would be nice if the _three_ of us could get together, so you two guys could meet and all."

Edward folds his arms over his chest, and cocks his head, waiting.

"Oh, you're not. I see. Hmmm. Uh huh."

Edward reaches over and tries to take the phone, but she swings out of his grasp.

"Well, _he'd_ like to meet you. I told you he's my boyfriend."

Edward takes her hand and slowly strokes her fingers. She looks over, distracted.

"Yes, it's serious. I'm very serious about him."

Edward nods, smiling, and then lifts her hand and gently kisses her palm. She sighs and closes her eyes.

"Yes, he's serious about me, too. Listen, can we stick to making plans?"

She feels something unexpected and glances up to see Edward slowly pulling her index finger into his warm mouth. He nips the tip with his teeth while looking at her with a heated expression.

She shakes her head at him. _You're so bad _she mouths.

He grins and nods.

"We could meet you in Lucca. How about at Oliver's? We know where that is. We're going to Florence tomorrow, but we could go the next night."

Edward watches frustration shadow her features. "Come on, Leo, he wants to come and I want him to as well. Put yourself in his shoes." She nods. "Naturally."

She looks over in time to see Edward's fingertips graze over her breasts.

"Oh Jesus," she breaths out, sinking down into her seat. She shakes her head. "No, not you, Leo. Sorry, there's too much going on here."

She listens for a moment, nodding to what he's saying as Edward trails his fingers up her throat and against her lips. Her legs fall open and his free hand slowly runs up her inner thigh until she catches it with her hand.

"Okay, eight. Yes. Yes. We're looking forward to it."

Edward shakes his head with stern eyes and she bites down on his finger.

"Ow!" he calls out.

She arches her brow at him. "No sorry, Leo. Okay then, eight. Ciao!"

When she hangs up, she slaps her hands against his shoulders.

"You!"

"What?" he asks with large innocent eyes.

"That was sooo not helpful, Edward. What was that anyway?"

He shrugs and takes a long sip of wine. "I don't know. I gotta learn this baby daddy management thing. Give me a break. It's new to me."

"Well, this will be an interesting dinner," she says, reaching for her glass too. "I hope you try to be kind, Edward, even if it's hard. After all, you've known about him almost all along in our relationship. He just learned about Jacob and you, and all that. He's a bit shell shocked. I don't even think he meant that attempt at a kiss. He was very emotional in that moment."

"You better be right about that, but I'm doubtful. Well, I'll be cool as long as he lays off you. If I see him making any kind of move again, I promise my martial arts training will come in handy."

She leans back in her chair and studies him.

"You know, I haven't seen this side of you before."

"Yeah, what side? The crazy one?"

"No, the competitive one."

He gives her a look. "Yeah, I'm fierce."

"Well, it's pretty hot. If I do say so."

"I'll always fight for you, Isabella. Always. This Leonard guy, might have a past with you and a fancy Italian villa, but you're mine, baby."

"Yeah?" she asks, as she scoots over close to him.

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight against him. "Yeah, all mine."

.

..~*~..

.

The Academia in Florence is full of tourists and students studying Michelangelo's work with appreciation. From the marble floors to the pale tall walls trimmed with architectural detail, everything feels grand and historic.

"Frankly, I don't see what the big deal is," Edward says, pointing up to the massive iconic sculpture.

Bella holds up her camera and takes a candid shot of Edward. "My God, the light in here. It's soft, yet harsh. Does that make any sense?" she asks excitedly.

"Not a bit," he says, laughing.

"Okay now, what were you saying while I was trying to shoot _my_ favorite masterpiece?"

He grins at her. "I'm just not that impressed. I mean he's big for sure, but proportionally not big at all."

"What in the world are you talking about?" she asks as she gazes up at David with reverence. "He's perfect."

"Really?" Edward asks.

"Sure he is. I want to crawl up there and rub his marble ass it's so fine," she teases.

"Comments like that don't help," he warns.

"Oh, you'll have your chance, mister. There are some very fine ladies with perky marble breasts in the next gallery."

"Glad to hear it," he says, looking back up at David. "And what's with the freaky big hands? It only makes his package look smaller. I mean, any man would hope to be hung bigger than his thumb. I feel sorry for the guy. He has to stand around naked all day and hear these comments."

"And here I thought you were a sophisticated patron of the arts. You are so uncouth, talking about the size of his penis."

He shrugs. "You're right, Isabella. I'm practically a caveman when it comes to another man distracting you. I don't care if he's a masterpiece."

She reaches up and kisses him on the cheek.

"What's that for?" he asks, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"You. I love everything about you."

"Well I'm certainly bigger than my thumb."She reaches out for his hand and studies it then laughs. "I'll say, worlds bigger. But it's more than that…you're perfect in every way."

"Well, I don't know about that. I'm pretty rough around the edges and my hair would never curl like his does," he comments, pointing up at Michelangelo's masterpiece.

"But you're perfect for me."

.

Edward stands at the front of the bridge and sweeps his arm dramatically across the vista. "Look, Bella, the Ponte Vecchio. This is the bridge of gold. I read it about it in the guidebook."

"Is it called that because there are so many jewelry stores?"

"Well that, and because in the 1500's the Medici threw all the butchers out so that the gold sellers would add some class to the place."

"I makes me hot and bothered when you educate me with historical facts. Keep at it."

He nods, but suddenly looks more serious. "Hey, I want to buy you something. Will you let me do that?"

"Buy me something gold?"

He nods enthusiastically.

"But I'm not really a fancy-pants gold girl, you know. I'd rather have a strand of those hand-blown Murano glass beads with all the colors."

"I bet you would. Do you think they'll have any of those on this bridge of gold?"

"I'm not sure," she admits, "but I'm sure we'll see something wonderful."

As they keep walking along the bridge, they pass by an artist set up at a small table painting miniature Tuscan landscapes in watercolor. Bella pulls on Edward's sleeve.

"That's what I'd _really_ like, Edward. You could buy me one of those."

He smiles. "A miniature painting. I should've seen that coming."

"Look how wonderful they are," Bella says, scanning the group. She points to one of a field of sunflowers. "That's my favorite."

Edward gets the attention of the artist and points to the painting.

"You want to buy?" The older Italian man asks.

"Si, per favore," Edward says.

The artist does a hand-written receipt and carefully wraps up the painting so that it'll be protected. He moves slowly and Bella is touched by the care in how he treats his work.

She smiles widely at him and gestures to the assortment of miniature work. "Beautiful!"

His face lights up with appreciation. "Grazie, grazie!"

.

They continue to explore Florence, walking along the Arno and then trailing down a small side street when Bella notices a store she wants to check out. She pulls Edward into the leather shop.

"No man bags," he whispers.

She ignores him. "Oooo, look at all the beautiful things!" She scurries past the handbags to the section of leather journals and albums in a wide assortment of colors.

"I want an album, so that I can make a picture journal of this trip."

"Yeah, I like that idea. When we're old and gray we can look through it and remember all of this."

She turns and looks at him, her eyes bright and happy. "Yes, yes, that's exactly what we will do."

She studies all the colors and styles and then picks out a forest green square album with a pebbled leather cover. "This is it," she says, clearly inspired. "This is our album."

"Perfect," he says smiling, happier than he's felt in a long time.

.

They're walking a few shops further down the street when they hear music. They both stop walking to listen, trying to figure out where the impressive operatic singing is coming from.

"Is that a radio?" Bella asks.

"I don't think so, it sounds live…and near by," Edward says.

They wander back and forth on the narrow street until they figure out the singing is coming from the kitchen of a restaurant. They peek in the back window to see a chef working over a stove while he sings. Edward takes Bella's hand and pulls her to stand right under the open window where he works just as the virtuoso chef starts a new aria.

"He's amazing," Bella whispers before leaning back against the stucco wall. She closes her eyes and listens intently, a huge smile on her face.

"He doesn't even know we're enjoying this," Edward points out. "Hey. Does this remind you of anything?" he asks as he leans in toward her, grinning.

"When I first heard you playing and you didn't know I was listening?" she asks breathlessly. "One of my best moments ever!"

He gazes at her, and brushes her windblown hair from her face before kissing her. Seeming oblivious to the couple walking past them, he gently pushes her up against the wall as he kisses her again with even more fire.

"Wow," she says, letting out a deep breath.

"Oh, Isabella, what you do to me," he says, smiling.

"The feeling is mutual, handsome."

"Hey, let's see if they're open. I know we were heading to that church, but I'm hungry."

Bella loops her arm in his. "Me, too…let's go!"

.

Seated at the corner table, they are sitting side by side halfway through lunch, her foot crossed over his. "I can't believe he sang just for us at our table," she says, sighing. "Do we give him a tip or something?"

"I don't know. I guess we could," Edward says. "The guide book doesn't have a section for how to handle singing chefs."

"So true," she replies.

She feeds him a tortellini and as he chews, she rakes her fingers through his beard. "Can I shave this off tonight? Now that we're kissing again you don't need it anymore."

"Ha!" he exclaims. "I knew the beard strategy would work!"

She laughs. "Why, what do you mean?"

"I remember you saying once that you had a fear of Bigfoot. So I figured if I looked like him, you might be frightened enough to kiss me again so that I get rid of the hairy look."

She sets down her wine and then gives him a puzzled look.

"Come again?"

"You don't think I look like Sasquatch now?"

"Hardly," she huffs. She takes his chin in her hand and turns his face toward her and back. "I think you look very handsome. It's grown on me, actually. I think you should keep it."

His expression falls. "What? No way! This thing itches like crazy and it feels like I have a small animal living on my face. It's going tonight!"

Grinning, she leans forward and takes a sip of her wine.

His expression lights up. "Oh, I see. I see what you're up to. You're so clever, Isabella, you and your reverse psychology. You and my sister make quite a pair."

She sighs and leans back in her chair. "I can't wait to shave you tonight. You will be shirtless, possibly pantsless, and I will wrap you in hot towels first."

"Will I get a massage, too?"

"Hmmm, good idea…a head and shoulder massage."

"Will you do it naked?"

"Naked? You're pretty spicy today, you know?"

"Sorry, but there's been quite a build up of sexual tension and now it's all coming out. I imagine it will level out soon."

"Not too soon, I hope. So yes, I'll be naked. What other special treatment do you want tonight?"

"You could talk dirty to me while you shave me. There is nothing like being aroused with a sharp blade at my neck."

"Talk dirty? That won't be too challenging. I'm always thinking dirty things when I'm close to you, so I'll just vocalize them."

He takes a long sip of his wine, squeezes his hand over her thigh, and then shakes his head. "Jesus, woman, you're my dream girl. When this is all done you're going to have to marry me….no two ways about it."

"Okay," she says before taking another sip of her wine.

He looks shocked as he realizes his misstep. Surely she understood that he was kidding.

"Isabella," he says softly, turning towards her.

"Yes, fiancé," she replies, trying to keep a straight face.

"I was joking. I mean, of course I want to marry you at some point…well, maybe. But oh my God, I didn't mean now."

She gives him a sad look. "So you don't want to marry me?"

"Well, no…but wait a minute, are you telling me that you want to marry me?"

"No, I don't want to get married. I just thought it was really cute that you sort of asked me."

_She doesn't want to get married to him? _He tries not to feel insulted.

"Besides, why would we get married? It's not like we're going to have kids, or own property together or anything," he points out.

"Right, right. I can't imagine getting married at my age. What would be the point? For goodness sakes, it's way too soon to even think about living together."

_Jeez. It's not really that bad of an idea,_ he thinks.

"Yeah, can you imagine _us_ living together?" Edward jokes. He feels his stomach twist as she rolls her eyes.

"Oh boy! You wouldn't want to live with me in my house, I'm sure," Bella says, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers. "I mean you have that really cool loft apartment."

"Yeah, where would I put my big paintings?" he says, looking anxious.

"Exactly. They wouldn't even fit in my house!" she says a little too quickly.

The waiter approaches with their check and Edward hands him a credit card. "Well, it's a good thing we got that all cleared up. I mean this is crazy talk…we just got back together."

Bella nods. "Yeah, a good thing," she says, then looks away.

As they work their way out of the restaurant and start down the street, she begins to imagine what it would be like to wake up every morning with Edward wrapped around her. She wonders if he'd bring her coffee in bed then crawl back in to hold her, like he does when he spends the night now. She grins at the thought of it and it makes her feel all warm inside.

As Edward loops his arm across her shoulder, he thinks about his loft with the cold cement floors and empty kitchen. Even on his best days he feels lonely in that space.

He imagines his biggest painting and remembers that large expanse of white wall in the meeting room of Isabella's studio. The ceiling is quite high and she only has a few framed photographs that could easily be moved.

_Wouldn't his big painting look great in there?_

He can't help but smile, he feels so happy at the idea of holding her every single night as she falls asleep in his arms.

_._

"So where to now?" he asks, high on wine and Isabella.

"Well, did you still want to see the Novella church?" Bella asks, smiling as it occurs to her that she'd like to light a candle and say a prayer.

He realizes he hasn't been inside a church since his dad's funeral and this time instead of approaching the altar with a broken heart, he can give thanks for how much better his life is now because of Isabella.

He takes her hand and winds their fingers together. "Yes, the church. That sounds perfect, my love…let's go!"

.

.

* * *

_They're happy, I'm happy...are you?  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_See you next Saturday!  
_

_Imagery and weekly teasers on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

_Also join me on Twitter dot com slash abstractway_


	26. Chapter 26 The Greatest Fan of Your Life

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_**  
**

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Six / The Greatest Fan of Your Life **

.

The morning light in their villa's kitchen is softly diffused. Edward looks up and studies Bella as she pours them coffee. The scene looks like a modern day Renaissance painting, with the window light glow and a woman calmly completing her task. When she turns to him and smiles he snaps back into the twenty-first century.

"Any new emails about the project?" Bella asks as she hands him his mug. They've finally decided to open their laptops and connect with the real world outside their bubble. They want to make sure they haven't missed anything critical.

Edward nods, as he scans through his emails. "Yes, here's what I was hoping for," he says.

Bella pulls up a chair and sits down close to him.

"Wow, this is amazing!" Edward says happily, as he leans into his laptop screen.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asks.

"Yes! Look at the mural…Maria's almost done. It looks great," he says.

Edward pushes the screen closer toward Bella and she studies the colorful image spanning the screen. "Oh, it looks wonderful, Edward! Even better than I imagined."

He nods. "I agree."

"So did Sean send you these pictures? Yesterday you said he was going to check up on things for you while we're here," she says.

"Yeah, he sent them and look at these other shots. As soon as the mural is done all that's left is the carpeting to be installed and the linoleum floor in the center room. I can't believe it's almost done."

"Me either," she agrees.

"Oh look, here's an exterior shot." He double clicks on the icon and when the image opens, he leans in close to his computer. Overwhelmed, he closes his eyes and shakes his head before dropping his face into his hands.

"What's wrong, Edward?" She pulls the computer back her direction. "Oh, yes..of course. _The sign_."

She studies the bright, happy sign that says _Esme's Place,_ and her heart swells. Somehow, everything about this project seems more real now. She thinks about how happy his mom would be.

"That's incredible," she says softly, concerned about his reaction.

She turns and pulls him into a hug, and he drops his hands from his face and sighs. "I just can't believe it," he whispers. "I think it's all hitting me."

"It's unbelievable, isn't it? Look what you've accomplished already. And the sign…well, it's just perfect."

"She would've loved it," he says, his voice heavy with emotion.

"I bet she knows about it, Edward. I really think she does."

He takes a deep breath and sits up straight again.

"I wish she could've met you, Isabella. She would've loved you so much. You're just her kind of girl."

"I wish I could've met both your parents. But I always imagine that I know them in a way since they are both so much a part of you."

"I like thinking that's true," he agrees.

He holds onto her another minute before turning back in his seat. He flips to his email screen and scans the list of incoming messages. "Here's an email from Alice." He begins to read.

"What does she have to say?"

"She sounds busy, but in control. No major problems yet. Except…oh…" As he continues reading, he shakes his head.

"What?" asks Bella.

"She had a meeting with Rose and the caterer."

"Is Rose okay?" Bella asks.

"Yeah, nothing's wrong. You see, the caterer is one of Rose's best friends, so she brought her in."

"So why's there a problem?" Bella asks.

Edward looks uncomfortable. "Well, it seems that Lauren showed up without warning to talk to Alice."

"Oh really?" Bella imagines that Lauren must be more involved with the fundraiser than she was hoping she'd be.

"Shit!" Edward shakes his head with frustration as he reads more.

"What?" asks Bella.

"They had a fight, Lauren and Rose. Not that I'm surprised, they always had issues, but it sounds like it got nasty."

Bella feels her cheeks flush and her stomach churn. "What'd they fight about?"

Edward reads more and then sits up and slaps his laptop shut.

"You know what? I don't want to even think about that shit. I'm here with my beautiful girlfriend in Italy."

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Bella asks, concern etched across her face.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Please, Isabella…let's focus on us and what we want to do today."

She takes a long sip of her coffee as she thinks, but by the time she sets it back on the table, she decides to let it go. Edward's right, they should plan their day.

"Actually, I was thinking I'd like to see some of the countryside and take pictures, then maybe have a late lunch at that quaint place we saw just outside of Lucca."

"Is that what my love wants to do today?" he asks, pulling her on his lap and kissing her bare shoulder. "And maybe a swim when we get home before the dreaded dinner?"

She nods happily. "And then tomorrow, Siena?"

"Sounds good to me," he says, closing his eyes in pleasure while she runs her fingers across his scalp.

.

..~*~..

.

"Will you stop shooting me," he teases as he sets down his wine glass and finishes paying the lunch bill. "You probably have a thousand shots of me from this trip."

"As if that's enough," she scoffs.

He holds out his hand toward her camera. "Here, give it to me."

"Are you crazy! No!" she insists, curling over her camera protectively.

"It's not what you think. I want to take a picture of you."

She makes a face.

"Please, baby," he insists. "It's only fair."

She begrudgingly hands over her camera. "Just one," she says.

"Yeah, right…just one." He holds up the camera and waits for her to smile. When she does, he snaps the picture.

"Okay," she says.

He smirks. "I lied." He hurriedly takes another shot and when she tries to grab the camera, he darts away from her. Quickly walking out of the restaurant with the camera, he dodges her while she trails after him. He heads into the nearby field and turns around to shoot her as he walks backwards, further into the tall grass.

"You!" she yells at him as he clicks away. "Stop taking my picture!"

"But these yelling ones are so attractive," he teases.

She rushes forward, and surprised, he falls back in to the grass.

Luckily, he holds the camera up as he lands. She crawls onto his lap and tries gets it out of his grasp while he's still shooting.

"You're so bad!" she says.

"And you're beautiful when you're angry."

She looks down at him, and he smiles, his eyes dancing. Everything about him, including his strength as he holds her back, is appealing. When she surprises him by leaning over to kiss him, he wraps his free arm around her and whispers, teasing.

"I like it when you chase me, Isabella."

As she trails kisses along his jaw and runs her hand over his chest, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "So I sense you aren't angry anymore."

"Nope, I can't be angry when you're so appealing," she says.

"Hmmm," he sighs, before kissing her back and running his hands down below her waist and over her butt to pull her against him.

"Why aren't you shooting now?" she whispers as she slowly parts her legs until she's straddling him.

"Shooting now?" he asks, tilting his head back as she kisses his neck.

"This is the good stuff, the best stuff," she replies, rocking her hips instinctively when she feels him harden underneath her.

"I'm sure it is, but I'm not that skilled," he says while she brushes her fingers lightly over his cheek. He carefully sets the camera down next to them. "Besides, I'm way too distracted."

After another passionate kiss, Bella lifts up on her knees and scans the vista over the tall grass. Satisfied with what she sees, she reaches up under her skirt and starts to wiggle off her panties. "I had a dream about doing this," she tells him excitedly.

Edward's stunned. "What are you doing?" he asks, shaking his head.

She gives him a dark look. "Tell me you don't want this."

"Of course I want _this_. I always want _this_, but we're lying in some random field."

"So you can keep your pants on, just open them up. I'll leave my skirt on. That way if we need to we can make a fast getaway." She grins widely.

He feels the heat burn down his chest and up his thighs, all leading to the part of his body where he wants her most. "Fuck, Isabella. This is crazy." He fumbles as he quickly tries to undo his belt.

"Exactly," she moans as she watches him free his arousal from his briefs.

"Are you sure?" he asks, watching her slide her hand back and forth over him before lifting her skirt and scooting closer.

"Oh yeah," she says, moving up then slowly sinking down over him. Her eyes grow wide when she's taken all of him. "Wow," she pants. "This feels so good."

"Oh, God, so much for foreplay." He groans, letting his head fall back as she slowly lifts her hips then eases them back down.

She reaches over and picks up the camera.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"I want to remember this…the way you look."

"So we're photographing porn now?" he asks, marveling at how she can slowly rock over him while still shooting.

"No, we're not shooting porn, Edward…we're capturing love. Sometimes it flutters around us like a butterfly. I want to have these images to remember every bit of it."

He looks at how she's trapped him under her.

"Is that why you've pinned me down like a butterfly's wings? This love that's between us…it's not going to fly away you know. I'll always want you, Isabella."

"Oh, I want you always, too," she says with a tone that suggests more than longevity.

She studies the fire in his eyes and knows that for all of the teasing, he wants her completely. When she moves and he gets lost in the feeling, she lifts up the camera again.

"Oh it's the look in your eyes…it's so intense." She takes several more shots. "I see passion, and I see love." She sighs as the shutter clicks.

"Indeed," he agrees, grinning.

He notices a flush move up her neck and across her cheeks, her breath hitching as he thrusts upwards. Reaching up under her shirt, he cups his hands over her breasts covered by her sheer bra, running his thumbs over her nipples.

Her head sways with pleasure.

"Now that's a picture, baby," he says as he watches her. The long grass waves around them, warmly lit by the afternoon sun.

"Edward," she whispers as he pushes up her skirt. He grips her hip with one hand and the other slides to just above where they're joined and strokes her.

He looks up at her with a smoldering gaze. "Put the camera down, Isabella. What I'm going to do to you now…you won't want to be holding on to anything but me."

.

..~*~…

.

"Ha, look at the grass stains on my knees," Bella squeals as she lifts her leg out of the water of the villa's swimming pool later that afternoon.

Edward shakes his head warily. "Can I tell you something about that?"

"Sure," Bella says.

"The whole time you were having your way with me in that field, I was worried we were going to get run over by a tractor or something."

She laughs heartily. "A tractor! You sure fooled me. I had no idea you were in fear for our lives."

"How did I look?" he asks.

"Like you wanted to consume me."

"Well, yes. But that's a given."

"And just for the record…._you_ were having your way with me.

"Really?"

"You have re-defined the pelvic thrust for me. I think I'm actually bruised inside."

He looks smug. "So what you're telling me is that you're glad you set the camera down."

"Yes, I'm glad for that. And for the record, you're hot, Mr. Cullen. Very, very hot."

She leans back and lets her legs drift to the surface until she's floating. Her expression is completely peaceful and she drifts in the aquamarine shimmer.

"I wish I could do that," he says longingly.

She drops her feet and turns to face him. "Here, I'll teach you."

He laughs. "I swear I'll sink."

"The important thing is not to think that. You have to relax into it. The minute you stop fighting the water is when the water holds you. It's kinda zen."

"Really? Floating lessons from Ms. Isabella Swan," he says.

"Yes," she says, kissing his forehead before gently easing him into the water. "Okay, I'm going to hold you. Just relax into it."

She slips one hand against his mid-back and one on his ass.

"That's kind of distracting you know. You expect me to relax when your hand is on my ass."

"Shhh, you. Think soothing thoughts," she says softly.

"Like Leonard getting food poisoning and canceling our dinner tonight?"

"That's soothing? Oh, Edward, you're awful."

"Awfully wonderful. That's what you said when I made you see stars in the field."

"I don't know what came over me, taking my panties off like that," she says, shaking her head with disbelief.

He worries she's tiring, trying to hold him up in the water, so he takes a break from floating, drops his feet down, and faces her.

"You just sat on me like it was something we do every day…make love in a field."

"It's Italy. It makes me lusty," she admits, splashing him.

"Well, maybe we should move here. I really like lusty Isabella."

"But Esme's place…"

"And your photography business…"

"Well, we could have a summer home here," she says.

He skims his hands back and forth across the water as he thinks.

"Yes, but that would leave us with _three_ residences to maintain," he says provocatively.

"Three is a lot," she agrees, leaning against the wall of the pool. "Unless of course, you lived with me. Then we would just have two. That's much more manageable."

"Why don't _you_ live with me?" he asks.

"Well I'm the one with the pool. We can't float unless we have a pool." She grins.

"True. True." He scratches his chin while he studies her. "So do you want me to live with you?"

"Maybe," she says playfully, treading water slowly.

"Hmmm just maybe? Well maybe I don't want to," he teases.

"You want to," she insists. "You want to know why?"

"Why?" His eyes dance with mirth as he waits.

"Because you want me…" she draws the words out, but then he jumps in and cuts her off.

"Naked in bed with me…every single night and morning," he says, looking pleased with himself.

She laughs. "Actually I was going to say, _to bake for you every day_."

"Well, yes," he says, a bit embarrassed. "I love your baking."

"And the backrubs," she adds.

"And I wouldn't have to shower alone anymore."

"Because it's so lonely in the shower," she teases. "You know some people just don't like being alone."

"Is that what you think?" He takes her by the hand and pulls her through the water until she's in his arms.

Her cheeks color as she looks up at him.

"Hey you," he says softly, lifting her chin up with his finger. "It's not that I don't want to be alone, Isabella. It's just that I always want to be with you."

"Really?" she asks, her expression full of light.

He kisses her, pulling her tightly in, his fingers wide reaching as they move over her.

"Yes, really."

.

..~*~..

.

Edward is uneasy as they enter the restaurant. It's off-putting that Leonard is on his home turf while he's a stranger in a strange land. As they step further into the restaurant he sees a man, far better looking than he'd hoped, notice Isabella, step away from the bar, and move toward them.

He has eyes only for Isabella as he approaches and gives her that kiss kiss on both cheeks thing. Bella looks flustered as she steps away from him.

"Leo, this is Edward," Bella says, gesturing. "Edward, Leo."

Edward takes a casual stance as they shake hands. "Hey, Leonard, how's it going?"

Leo looks back at Bella with eyebrows raised. "Leonard?" he repeats, trying to imitate the crude Southern accent that Edward used.

Bella shrugs trying to play it off. "He likes to use formal names."

Leo turns to Edward. "Ah I see. Well, in that case it's _Leonardo_."

"Okay, sure," says Edward as he looks for the maître d`. "Shall we see if we can get a table?"

.

Once seated, Bella does her best to get conversation going. Leo keeps bringing up their times at Art Center and she keeps bringing up things she and Edward have experienced in Italy. Edward just keeps drinking wine and biting his tongue.

Halfway through his second glass though, he interrupts Leo's darkroom mishap story that occurred during one of the holiday breaks.

"Hey Isabella, speaking of holidays, is Jacob going to make it home for Thanksgiving with us?"

Bella looks at him warily, knowing he's trying to stir up trouble. She shakes her head at him after Leo turns his direction. When he smiles at her, he feels the weight of Leonard's stare.

"You know my son?"

"Sure," he says casually. "We've hung out and we talk on the phone. He's great."

Leo looks distraught that this stranger, this man that his Bella sleeps with, knows his son better than he does.

"I see. I just assumed since he lives on the east coast, and you haven't dated that long…"

"Jacob came home a couple of months ago for a conference," Bella explains. "He met Edward then."

Leo turns fully towards Edward. "Well, in that case please tell me, is he like his mother in his personality, warm and spirited?" Leo asks.

Edward thinks for a moment. "He's great, but no, I wouldn't describe him like that. He's pretty serious and really focused."

"Very much like his father," Bella says kindly.

Leo turns and smiles at Bella. "Well, I really wish he were more like you in that regard. He's already stuck looking so much like me."

"Yes, like that is such a hardship. Are you fishing for compliments, Leo?" Bella teases.

He looks affronted. "Of course not."

Edward pushes his chair back, realizing he needs a break before he becomes an ass. "Would you two excuse me for a minute? Isabella, I realized that I need to call Rodney the contractor. There's something important I forgot to tell him and it's morning in L.A."

Bella turns to Leo. "This is for the children's music center I told you about that Edward is opening."

"Ah yes," responds Leo. "Well then, by all means. It's such a noble cause. Don't worry about us…just take your time."

Edward starts boiling inside._ I bet Leonard-O wants me to take my time._

"It's all right, Edward," Bella says, watching him carefully. "Just don't take too long." The look on her face is hard to read. He realizes that her words could mean many things as he turns and moves toward the front door.

.

Once Edward is out of their line of sight, Leo sighs and raises his eyebrows. "He's rather territorial, isn't he?"

"Why do you say that?" Bella asks defensively. "I think he's being rather low key, considering how awkward this is for him."

"He may not have talked a lot, but he hasn't stopped touching you all evening. He's like an octopus…all hands."

"I suppose," Bella admits as she thinks of his hand on her thigh while they ate, or his arm extended over the back of her chair grazing her shoulder. "He's a very physical man."

Leo looks irritated. "Yes, I imagine he is. Tell me, does Jacob like him?"

"Why does that matter to you, Leo?" she asks gently.

"I don't know. It just does. Humor me…"

"Yes, he likes him, but mostly because he makes me so happy."

Leo rests his chin in his hand as he watches her.

"So he does make you happy? Truly?"

She nods, her eyes softly smiling. "So happy."

Leo's shoulders sag a big. "I'm not going to lie. Part of me wishes he were a cad so I may find a way to be with you again. But the better part of me is glad for you, Bella. You deserve a man who makes you happy."

"Thank you, Leo. That means a lot to me."

She reaches over and squeezes his hand. Then taking another sip of wine, she looks toward the front of the restaurant hoping to see Edward heading back to them.

.

Edward paces in front of the restaurant, his phone never having left his jacket.

_Fucking Leonard-O…elbowing his way into his Italian holiday with Isabella._

Never mind that he's the reason for their trip. Edward had other ideas for who Leonard-O would be, one being a fat, bald, and married guy with a villa full of kids.

He doesn't like the way he looks at Isabella. He doesn't like that they share a passionate past together. And now he'll be coming around, being the man in Jacob's life. It's feeling like too much considering that he and Isabella just renewed their full relationship again.

He notices a couple, arm-in-arm, exit the restaurant and realizes he's already been outside too long. He digs in his heels and heads back inside.

.

As Edward walks back in, Bella appears very interested with whatever her ex-boyfriend is talking about. When he approaches the table however, she looks up at him with relief.

"There you are! Leo was just telling me about the Cinque Terre. His cousin gives guided tours and she knows all the best places."

Edward takes his seat and nods. "Do you want to do that Saturday, baby?"

"Oh yes! Will you forward me her information, Leo?"

"Sure," he agrees. "I will contact her in the morning and give her your number."

Leo finishes off his coffee. "Well, shall we?"

"What about the check?" Edward asks.

Leo waves his hand. "It's taken care of."

Bella smiles at him. "Thank you, Leo."

"You're welcome. It's good we all got to meet. Edward, I'm coming to the states when Bella tells Jacob about me. I want this to be simpatico…as pleasant as possible for all of us."

"Yes, she told me. So we'll see you then, I guess."

They shake hands, then all rise from the table and start heading up front. When they get to the door, Leo turns to Edward. "May I have a moment alone with Bella, Edward?"

Edward looks over at Bella and then back at him, and nods before stepping outside.

.

Bella looks at Leo with wide, sad eyes as she realizes their time in Italy is over. They both know that at another time in their lives this meeting would've had another outcome.

"Bella," he whispers, taking her face tenderly in his hands and slowly kissing each cheek. "Mama."

She smiles up at him.

"We will see each other again, soon. Yes?"

She nods. "Yes, very soon."

He pulls her into a hug. "Ever since you told me about my son, I feel as if my life is renewed. I now look at everything differently."

"I imagine that's a good thing?" she says, smiling.

"Oh, Bella, it's magnificent. I can't wait to meet him."

"I can't wait for that either," she says. She hugs him one last time then gently pulls out of their embrace. "Yes, well until then, Leo."

"Addio, Bella," he whispers.

She smiles sweetly at him. "Ciao." She pulls open the door and steps outside to find Edward.

.

.

Back at the villa, Bella prepares for bed and changes into her most beautiful nightgown. She pulls on her silk robe, then brushes her long hair until it waves around her shoulders.

She thinks about the dinner and how relieved she is that both men made an effort to be civil with each other despite the complicated emotions involved. She's especially proud of Edward, who must have wanted to strangle Leo for kissing her during their first meeting, yet kept his cool knowing they have to figure out a way to get along.

She finds him the first place she looks, out on the balcony with his guitar. His gaze falls over her appreciatively as she stands before him. He reaches over and hands her a glass of wine, then takes a sip of his.

"Are you wearing that for me?" he asks, gesturing toward her silk gown as she sits across from him.

"Actually, yes…I'd bought it for our trip. How fortuitous that I still brought it, even though I thought you weren't coming."

"A little wish fulfillment perhaps?"

"At first I didn't want to bring it, but at the last minute I thought it would make me feel better. It feels special."

He smiles warmly at her. "You look amazing."

They sit quietly for a minute until she finally speaks up again.

She looks up into the sky. "It's a beautiful night."

He nods. "It surely is."

"You know, Edward, I was really proud of you at dinner. You handled yourself so well in what was a difficult situation."

"I'm glad you think so. It wasn't easy."

"I'm sure it wasn't," she agrees. "But I can tell he was impressed with you."

"Well, I don't care about that. But he needs to understand…"

"Oh, he does," she assures him. "It's pretty obvious how we feel about each other, don't you think?"

He smiles at her. "I imagine it is."

She leans back in her seat and takes a long sip of her wine, letting its warmth unfurl and relax her.

He starts to slowly strum his guitar as he looks off into the distance.

"Play me something?" she asks.

He leans into his guitar. "Okay, any requests?"

"How about that Edwin McCain song I like? The one you played for me early on."

"I'll Be?" he asks.

"Yeah, that's the one. I love that song."

He nods and thinks for a moment before his fingers start working over the strings. His voice stirs up Bella as he sings the opening lyrics about a man completely lovestruck with a woman. But it's the chorus that takes her breath away as she listens.

_And I've dropped out, I've burned up, _

_I've fought my way back from the dead._

_I've tuned in, turned on, _

_remembered the things that you said_

_I'll be your crying shoulder,_

_I'll be love's suicide_

_I'll be better when I'm older,_

_I'll be the greatest fan of your life._

When he finishes the last chord, he looks over and sees her wipe her tears away. He knows it's too much, the song too close to the fire they've walked through to be sitting there. He sets down his guitar, stands up, and steps in front of her. He reaches out his hand. "Come here, baby."

She nods and stands so that she can step into his open arms. He slides one arm behind her until his fingers spread across her back, pulling her closer. His other hand winds together with hers as he lifts it toward the starry sky.

He hums softly as they sway in a sort of slow dance. She presses her cheek against his. Their bare feet touch as they step side to side.

She doubts she's ever desired a kiss more. She holds onto threads of reserve as his fingers lightly run up and down her back. Her body is humming with the current passing between them.

She shivers as he presses his lips into her hair.

.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the feel of her in his arms…her softness, her strength, but most of all her devotion. It shatters him in its depth and beauty.

"Isabella," he whispers.

There are so many emotions melting through him like lava-warm, rich and decadent-an overabundance of desire.

"Will you kiss me?" she asks.

"In good time," he says, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of her face.

One of his hands lifts up and runs through her hair. "Beautiful," he says softly.

They sway and he turns her as they dance cheek to cheek.

_I love you_

Echoing between each heart beat_._

_I love you_

She sighs contentedly.

"I love you," he says, now loud enough for her to hear.

She doesn't even have to reply because he can feel her love circling him. It's a powerful thing.

"Oh, Isabella, when I take you to bed…"

"Will you undress me?" she asks as his finger slips underneath her delicate strap.

"Yes I will…very slowly," he assures her, his lips skimming up her neck and across her cheek.

"Can I undress you?" she asks, running her fingertips along the waistband of his slacks.

"Please," he replies with relish. "But first…"

She looks up at him, waiting, her eyes filled with stars.

He lifts her chin up and gazes at her with his whole heart just before whispering, "Everything starts with a kiss."

.

.

* * *

I love and appreciate hearing from you...

xoxo abbie

Also...if you enjoyed my last story, Animate Me, it has been nominated as Best All Human Story and Best Bella. Please vote for your favorites at thefandomchoiceawards dot blogspot dot com Thanks!


	27. Chapter 27 Always

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy**  
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_Many thanks to those of you that voted for **Animate Me** as Best All Human story! There is still time to vote for your favorites at thefandomchoiceawards dot blogspot dot com. There are lots of wonderful stories and authors nominated.  
_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Seven / Always**

.

Edward stands in the middle of Siena's brick-paved Piazza del Campo and gestures with one hand while the other holds up the guide book he's reading. "This is where they have the Il Palio. It's described as a medieval horse race that occurs twice a year."

Bella looks up at the aged and well-proportioned buildings that circle the square before responding to Edward's comments. He's managed to become a walking encyclopedia of all things Tuscan.

"A medieval horse race? Why do they do that?" Bella asks, as she photographs Edward and their surroundings. She's drawn to the colorful banners throughout the square.

"What do you mean, why do they do it? It's a tradition. Europe is all about traditions."

"See, this is out of my realm of thinking. We have no such traditions where we're from, unless you count the Super Bowl."

Edward laughs. "Wait a minute, what about the Rose Parade?"

Bella rolls her eyes. "Oh yeah, and that. And didn't you say a while back that this square was built in the thirteen hundreds. I think L.A. was built a few decades ago…not centuries," she teases. "I keep thinking places like this were built to look old…you know, like a film set or Disneyland."

Edward smiles at her. "It's fascinating how your mind works, Isabella."

She grins. "You think so?"

"Yup, I know so." He takes her hand and kisses it, then slides his arm around her waist. "Come on now, I have something else to show you."

.

Edward leads Bella down several narrow streets until they reach another open square and they are standing before the Duomo, a Romanesque-Gothic cathedral noted for it's use of wide stripes of black and white stone work. Bella starts to immediately take pictures of the elaborately carved façade.

"It's so beautiful," she exclaims.

"So the plan initially was that this would be the largest cathedral in the world," Edward reads from the guide book.

"Really?" asks Bella. "How ambitious. What happened?"

"I think they ran out of money."

"What is this fascination with having the biggest things in the world, the tallest building, the most gigantic shopping mall anyway? I enjoy small places. They're intimate. You know what I'd like?"

"No, but I can't wait to hear."

"I'd like to live in a tree house with you. Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"Maybe for a day or two…any longer may be challenging," Edward says.

"Oh really?" she asks, stepping in front of him and grinning widely.

"Is this a ploy to get rid of my really big painting? Because it definitely isn't tree house friendly."

She scrunches up her face. "Well, yes there would be some issues to overcome. Maybe we can just build one in the oak tree in my back yard and do sleepovers?"

"Build a tree house? That's ambitious. Why don't we try camping one night in a tent and see if you're still hot for that idea?" He's fairly certain that the subject will be dropped after one long night of roughing it.

"Ooo I know!" she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. "We can get one of those suspended tents that hang from a tree. That's kind of like a tree house because you're up high in the branches."

"Suspended?" he asks, his voice not hiding his uneasiness. _Why did he bring up camping anyway?_

"You just wait, Mr. C. It's going to be awesome!"

.

.

Bella takes Edward by the hand. "Come on, I want to go inside the church."

"But we went into that church in Florence," he argues.

"I didn't know there was a limit to church visits," she teases. "I'll go in and meet up with you in a few."

"Oh no," he says, grabbing her hand. "No straying for you. Besides, I was joking. Of course I'm coming with you."

She smiles and takes his hand. They leave the sunny plaza to step into the low, soft light of the cathedral. There's a solemn air as every step they take pulls them further away from the bustle of the outside world.

Bella studies the marble busts and sculptures, and looks up at the elaborately detailed domed ceiling. Edward watches her expressive face react to everything and he smiles.

He considers that there's something awe inspiring about walking on centuries-old marble mosaic floors to stand before an altar carved long before your great, great grandfather was even born.

Near the front of the altar, a young woman sinks to her knees and bows her head in prayer. The air is still and cool, voices are hushed, only fleeting whispers.

After they've wandered through the interior, Bella approaches a table where an older Italian woman is selling short candles in ruby red glass holders. Bella pulls out enough Euros to pay for three, then turns and offers two of them to Edward.

"What's this for?" he whispers.

"I'm going to light a candle for mom. I thought you'd like to for Carlisle and Esme as well."

She sets the cool glass votives in his open palms and he follows her to the stand where people have left candles burning in memory of loved ones. He watches her hold the unlit votive close to her heart and close her eyes. She has a beatific smile on her face and he imagines she's saying a prayer for her mother. A minute later, she tips the candle over one that's already burning until the flame catches, then she carefully chooses an open spot to leave her glowing red votive.

She turns and looks at Edward, then nods and steps to the side so he can step forward.

Edward takes a deep breath. He's not a man of rituals, but there's something sacred in this moment, in this holy place where he imagines being closer to God. As his fingers tighten over the glass he thinks about how happy his parents would be to see him in Italy with a woman like Isabella by his side.

He closes his eyes and pictures Carlisle and his warm smile in the happier times, before his illness, before losing his wife and partner. Enough time has passed that the memory doesn't take Edward's breath away but rather comforts him. He holds the candle over a flame until it catches.

_I miss you, Dad._

He then holds his unlit candle up and feels Esme's love surrounding him. He thinks about _Esme's Place_, and a surge of pride and excitement jolts through him.

_Yeah, Mom…we're really doing it, and I think you'll be pleased. _

He feels full of emotion as he tips her candle over his dad's and watches it spark and flame. His eyes scan the candle altar until he sees a two open spots right next to each other.

He gently sets them in place.

_I love you guys._

He turns to Bella and notices her gaze is soft as she watches him. He points to where he left his votives side by side. "They're together," he whispers.

She steps up close and wraps her arms around him. "Yes, they are," she says softly. "Forever."

As he holds her, the warm feeling washes over him once more and he realizes that this is the most peaceful he's felt in a very long time.

.

..~*~..

.

Their final days in Italy are bittersweet. They've finally settled into a glorious synchronicity, only to know their time in their Italian paradise is soon over.

They have a couple of days of excursions but they're lazy on their last full day in Lucca. Sleeping in, they spend the early afternoon by the pool. Bella puts a lunch together from the odds and ends in their kitchen and they linger over each bite, wanting to remember how everything tastes when the Tuscan sun is shining down on them.

In the afternoon, she remembers that after all the drama and adventures she hasn't gotten the gifts for everyone she wanted to. She can't go back home with only a soccer jersey for Jacob and beaded necklace for Angela. So they pull themselves together and make it into the walled city while the stores are still open. Picking out beautiful hand-painted mugs, and delectables for her friends, Bella also encourages Edward to get something for Rose and her family, Alice, Jasper, Sean, and Julia.

"How are we going to get this stuff home?" Edward groans, his arms full of shopping bags, as they follow the hostess to a table in the restaurant's outside patio.

"Where there's a will there's a way," Bella responds. "Hey, something just occurred to me."

"What's that?" Edward asks as he settles and takes a sip of water.

"Did you buy yourself anything here? I don't remember a single thing that you bought that was for you," she says.

"No, why would I buy anything?"

"A memento? Or maybe just because it's fun to get something you want?"

"But Isabella," he says softly, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "I have everything I could possibly want right here."

.

..~*~..

.

To make their last night in their villa even more special, Bella lights candles all over their bedroom and Edward uncorks the best bottle of wine that they'd saved for this night.

With the windows wide open, the soft breeze makes the candles flicker, casting a golden shimmer throughout the room. They aren't even halfway through their bottle when she starts undressing him.

"Tell me one thing," Bella whispers as her hands slide up his naked thighs, his jeans pushed down past his knees.

He gasps as her hand tightens over him. "Anything," he moans.

"Did you know I wouldn't be able to resist you on this trip?"

He looks down at Bella as he stands before her. She is fully clothed still as she sits with her legs wide apart on the edge of their bed.

"I'd hoped," he whispers, feeling impossibly harder as her fingers stroke him. He tries to remember why he's practically naked and Bella still has her clothes on. She seems particularly determined tonight.

She leans forward and slowly trails her tongue up his length. Her eyes flutter closed with pleasure.

"I can never resist you," she whispers.

He swallows thickly as he watches her, and he runs his fingers through her hair. "Take your top off, Isabella. I need to see more of you."

She leans back and looks up, smiling as she slides her T-shirt overhead then unclasps her bra. When she pulls it away, Edward cups her breasts in his hands as she looks up at him.

"I started to lose my conviction the very first day here when you watched me in the pool from your balcony. I wanted you so badly that night," she admits.

"Is that why you came in to watch me in my room?" His thumbs brush back and forth across her hard nipples.

"Yes," she gasps. Her hands reach around until they spread over his backside. "I could have never lasted a week." Her fingers dig into his bare skin. "Not when I have so much to hold onto, not when you make love to me the way that you do."

Her fingers wrap around him again, and she gently kisses his arousal before her lips part.

"Isabella," he groans, watching.

She takes her time pleasuring him, secretly smiling as his breath gets more labored and his thigh muscles begin to tighten.

Just when she senses he's building to climax, his hands rest on her shoulders and he begins to push her backwards.

"What" she asks, sliding him slowly from between her lips.

"Get up on the bed, baby."

She grins and scoots back until she's in the center of the big four-poster bed. She lies back and slowly unbuttons her jeans and pulls down the zipper as he watches.

He crawls onto the bed after her, then digs his fingers under the waistband of her jeans and starts to pull them down her thighs.

She sits up on her elbows and watches him. The look in his eyes alone burns through her.

With her jeans and panties tossed aside, he leans over and pulls her legs open before kissing a trail starting along her calf. He then moves up, kissing her once on her knee, twice inside her inner thigh, and then three times between her legs as she writhes under him.

"Ready?" he asks as he slowly rises over her, then takes her hands and pins them down above her head.

She swallows and nods, her eyes wide with wonder. She swivels her hips, pressing against him. Her invitation is clear, his intentions undeniable.

His expression is one of barely contained restraint. She can tell he's fighting every instinct to just take her. She only makes it worse with her playful pleading.

"Please," she gasps as he presses his arousal against her.

He pauses, looking at her with a blinding intensity before pressing his lips against her ear. "Tell me you want me, Isabella," he whispers.

"You're such a tease," she growls.

"Tell me!" he insists, nipping her earlobe.

"Ahhh," she moans, fighting his restraint of her hands. "You're going to make me beg. I'll get you for this," she warns.

"Really?" he asks, grinning.

"Yes! I know how to use bed restraints, you know. You'll get yours."

"What?" he asks, looking alarmed.

"Never mind all that; stay on track here." She rocks her hips against his. "I want you…I want you!"

Refocused, he pushes down just enough to get her going. "I'm not convinced."

"Please, baby, please," she gasps, getting impatient, her expression shifting from playful to hungry.

"Like this?" he asks, pushing in a bit further.

"More," she groans, fighting to free her hands. He presses her wrists down tighter.

This time he pulls back, then pushes in until she is almost full of him.

"Oh God," she groans.

"I need all of you," he whispers, finally filling her so completely that it takes her breath away. A moment later, her hands are freed as he props himself up for leverage.

She twists her hands in his hair and pulls him closer, until their lips join together and her tongue curls against his. When her nails scrape down his back, he gives her a look.

"You're wild tonight," he gasps. Her passion inspires him, and he matches her desire thrust for thrust.

She moans with pleasure. "It's our last night here."

"Hmmm." He's too lost in her seduction to notice such details.

She digs her nails into his shoulders. "I want you to remember all of this."

"Oh I will," he assures her, rising up on his knees.

They gaze at each other, unblinking, their emotions bare.

"Come here, baby, closer." He lifts her up onto his lap and pulls her down over him as his arms hold her secure. He's silenced, stunned by the sensation of being so deep inside of her.

Her arms wrap tighter around his neck until they are heart to heart. They move slowly, pressing closer and closer together with each stroke until they're almost one.

Right before her head falls back in surrender, she gazes at him once more and whispers, "I'll remember this, too."

.

.

Completely satiated, they lie face to face in each other's arms.

"I like this," she says quietly. "Being with you all the time. Sharing a bed, sharing our lives."

Yeah?" He grins.

She nods. "And I like_ you_."

"I like you, too." He reaches closer and brushes his lips over hers with a kiss. "A lot."

She smiles but then he notices her expression shift subtly. "What?" he asks.

"I don't want to go home, Edward. What if everything feels different there?"

"It will be different…there's work and stress, but if at the end of the day we're together and holding each other like this, then life will be good."

"Yeah, you're right." She grins and curls closer to him.

"You bet." He rolls to his back and she rests her head on his shoulder, her fingers lazily making circles across his chest.

"I know there is still stuff we need to resolve," she says carefully.

"About the future?" he asks.

She nods.

He pauses, internally battling whether he should say something or not, but he finally decides to say what's on his mind.

"You know, I've been thinking. It'd be a really good idea for you to talk to Jacob about all of this. I think he needs to know about the plan you made several years ago, and you need to know how he feels about it. He's a very mature young man, Isabella. He can handle it."

She lies quietly for a minute, thinking. He can feel her heart thundering and sense her waves of emotion. Finally, she replies. "Yes, you're right."

He pulls her closer and gives her a kiss on her forehead. "Knowing how he feels will also affect your point of view about it, and then we can figure out where we stand."

"Okay," she whispers.

"And know that I will help you however I can, whatever support I can give." He feels her tremble and looks down just as she brushes tears away. "What, baby?"

She shakes her head, then presses her cheek tightly against his chest. "In my desire to protect my son, I've probably messed everything up. He will worry now like you did, that I could do something rash. And as for Leo…perhaps he could have had a relationship with his son all these years. I wish I'd done things differently, Edward."

"Shhh," he says softly, soothing her. "You did what you thought was best at the time, Isabella. You've been a very loving parent."

She looks at him intently. "But I was wrong to keep everything from the men in my life."

"But you're working to rectify that now, aren't you?"

She nods, brushing the last tear away.

"None of this is easy. You're brave, Isabella."

"And I'm trying to be strong," she adds, not really feeling that strong. But she wants to believe she is, and she wants him to believe it, too.

"That's my girl," he says, pulling her closer.

She sighs and he feels her slowly calming.

"So we will be together once we're home?" she asks. "Together all the time?"

His brow furrows as he thinks about the work waiting for him back home. "I just want you to realize that it's going to be a bit crazy until after the fundraiser. Especially since I took this time off to come to Italy."

"Oh, I see," she says quietly.

"I'm going to be working really long hours. But I don't want you to worry about that. Things will settle down to just busy once it's over."

"Okay, sure," she says. "And if I can do anything…"

"You can bet I'll keep that in mind. But you know what I really need most from you, and only you, Isabella."

"My delicious baking to give you energy?" she asks, teasing.

He shakes his head. "Nope."

"My earth shattering sex to unwind you after your hard days?" She winks at him playfully.

"Oh God," he groans. "You're making this difficult. But no," he says with great hesitation.

She throws her hands up haplessly. "I give up, then…what?"

He rolls over close and kisses her, pressing her into the sheets. "I need your love, baby." He kisses her again, slow and deep until she's melted against him.

"That's easy, Mr. C," she says as she hooks her leg around him and pulls him closer. "You've got it!"

"Mmmm," he groans as he kisses his way up her neck, and she laughs happily.

"All of it," she whispers before their lips meet again. She can feel the happiness radiate between them. She kisses him back again and again, soaking up every bit of their magic.

If only she could bottle the magic and bring it home. But she believes in Edward, she believes in the power of their love.

"Always," she whispers.

.

..~*~..

.

The next morning, Edward zips up and carries the last suitcase to the front door and calls out to Isabella, but she doesn't answer. He looks in the kitchen, and then heads upstairs to their bedroom. When he doesn't find her there, he steps out onto the balcony. Sure enough, Isabella is wandering through the secret garden, stopping to smell the jasmine and dipping her toes down into the pool. She looks so happy and carefree and it makes him smile.

He glances down at his watch and realizes that they still have some time and he considers joining her, but a moment later she heads towards the garden gate. Just before exiting she turns back, spreads her arms, and appears to say something out loud.

He shakes his head, laughing. _My woman is talking to the garden._

He watches her turn and walk through the gate. As she heads back into the house he starts down the stairs to join her. Before he reaches the bottom stair, he hears her voice.

"Goodbye, beautiful living room where Edward and I cuddled on the couch."

He freezes and his heart swells, realizing that she's saying goodbye to their villa, room by room. He hears her sandals click down the floors of the hallway.

"Goodbye, wonderful kitchen where Edward made me cappuccinos."

Next is the ping of what sounds like a hand slapping a metal surface. "Goodbye, little laundry room that washed our clothes so efficiently."

He smirks. _She's thanking the laundry room?_

When she starts up the back stairway to go upstairs, he quietly heads back upstairs.

"Goodbye, elegant bathroom where I had the most wonderful baths. Sorry I never figured out the shower thing."

Edward laughs to himself as he shakes his head. _She sure didn't._

"Goodbye, Edward's bedroom where I got to watch my beautiful boyfriend. Oh my," she sighs.

The fire roars through him as he remembers that night.

But when she enters their room, he can't stay away. He steps up to the doorway and watches her run her hand down the bed's post and smooth her fingers over the duvet. She turns and notices him in the doorway.

"You're saying goodbye to our villa," he says softly.

She nods, smiling sweetly. "And I saved the best room for last."

"Goodbye, beautiful room where my Edward and I found each other again."

They gaze at each other for a moment, remembering where they were when they arrived in Italy and where they are now.

She closes her eyes. "Can you feel how full of love this room is?"

"I can," he answers. "Lucky are the people who stay here next in this room full of love."

"So lucky…" she says. She looks out the window, realizing the sun is already higher in the sky. "Is it time?"

He nods. "Time to start our journey home."

.

..~*~..

.

Later, they're huddled together in the airport lounge, waiting for their delayed flight to get rescheduled. Bella holds her camera up between them as she scans through the images.

"That's a great picture of you and I in front of the ocean you got that tourist to take," Edward says.

"I'm surprised it turned out so well," Bella says. "He didn't know how to press the shutter button. I had to show him."

"But what I'll remember best from that beach is you in my arms in the water and how I had no sense of time, it was just you and me in the moment."

"It was perfect," Bella agrees.

"That was our last stop on the Cinque Terre excursion, right?" he asks.

"Yes," she responds. "Antonia, our tour guide, was flirting with some beach attendant while we were having our Italian moment."

"She seemed easily distracted," Edward says.

"Yes, but didn't you end up tipping her something crazy, like one hundred Euros or something?"

"Yeah, I got confused with the exchange rate. Too much wine at lunch, I think…"

"Well she loves us now. She already sent me an email asking us to come back," Bella says.

"Did she now?" Edward asks, grinning.

"Yes, besides the fact that she has a crush on you, my handsome boyfriend who's a big tipper. I think she enjoyed us and our joie de vivre!" Bella says.

"I think you're right. Hey, do you want to split another gin and tonic?" Edward asks as he looks around. "It looks like we aren't boarding anytime soon."

"Nah, I better drink some water," she says.

"Speaking of water, remember what happened at that little restaurant?"

"The one she took us to in the second village built into the cliff? Where we had lunch? How can I forget?" she says, laughing.

"It wasn't funny!" he insists.

"You mean how the waiter spilled water down the front of my shirt. Yeah, I remember that vividly."

"I bet you do," he says.

"And he revealed my assets since I was wearing a thin, white T-shirt. Thank you for not kicking his ass, by the way. I know you wanted to."

"You have no idea how much I wanted to," he says, practically growling. "I'm convinced the jerk did it intentionally."

"Yes, but as I recall, not long after that we were in the ocean with your under-water hands all over my breasts." She smirks.

"Well, of course," he states matter-of-factly.

"What was that all about?"

"Men and beautiful breasts…what can I say? We're hard-wired to want to touch them."

Before she can taunt him, their flight is announced over the loud speaker.

"I guess we can board now," she says sadly.

He looks up at the clock. "Yeah, let's go." He stands up and hoists on his backpack, then lifts his guitar before reaching his hand out for her.

"Ready?"

She sighs. "I guess so."

She looks so forlorn that it breaks his heart a little until a thought comes to him.

"Hey, when we get in our seats, let's start figuring out our next adventure. Okay?" he suggests with a big grin.

Her expression brightens as she takes his hand. "Oh, I love that idea."

When they leave the lounge and walk toward the gate, they pass an advertising sign promoting hot-air balloon rides over Tuscany. Bella stops in her tracks, drawn in by the colorful shapes and the idea of soaring over the very place she's fallen hopelessly in love with. She turns to Edward and takes him by the arm.

"Tell me you'll bring me back here one day," she asks, her expression sincere and hopeful.

Edward glances over at the sign and smiles. "Sure I will. Do you want to do the balloon ride next time we come back? We can make our own traditions, like doing some type of adventure every time we come."

She nods, with wide eyes like a young child who approaches a carousel full of colorful horses. She takes a step closer to him and places her hands on his shoulders as she looks up at him.

"So we'll always have Italy," she says happily.

He sets down his guitar, and pulls her into his arms. "Oh, Isabella."

"Yes, we will…

always."

.

.

* * *

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	28. Chapter 28 Welcome Home

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy**  
**

* * *

.**  
**

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Eight /** **Welcome Home**

.

"Am I glad I got on that plane?" Edward repeats his sister Rose's question, and then chuckles. "Yeah, I'm kinda glad," he teases.

Bella reaches over and pushes him on the shoulder as he struggles not to drop the phone.

He pulls back out of her reach and winks at her as he continues talking. "She's amazing, the trip was amazing." He nods and smiles as he listens. "Oh, things are better than good."

Bella reaches out to him. "I want to talk to her," she whispers.

"Hey, Rose, Isabella wants to talk to you. Okay, here she is."

Bella smiles widely. "Rose!" Bella exclaims. "What would we have done without you? To think I would have been sitting in that villa all alone with a broken heart and Edward would have been brooding in L.A.…well, I just can't even imagine."

Edward takes Bella's hand as she listens to Rose. "Uh huh, yeah…Oh, I was so happy to see him. I mean, I didn't leap into his arms or anything, but inside I was jumping for joy."

Edward looks over at her, surprised to hear she was that happy to see him on the plane. She's a much better actress than he thought.

"I'm going to give the phone back to Edward to say goodbye, but before I do, I just want you to know that you're my hero. And yes, we will definitely be coming to your house the weekend after the fundraiser. You will have to let me know your very favorite dessert, because I'm making it for you! Give my best to Emmett and the kids."

Edward takes the phone back after they say their goodbyes. "Yes, I'll be there all day tomorrow so I'll see you around eleven. Okay? Yes. And thanks again Rose…for everything. I love you, sis."

He slips his phone back in his pocket and smirks at Bella.

"What?" she asks, laughing.

"So you were overjoyed to see me on the plane, Miss 'That seat is taken for my real boyfriend'?"

"Hush," she says, blushing.

He leans into her and brushes his nose along her cheek. "So you made me work for it. Is that it?"

She folds her arms across her chest and huffs playfully. "Well, of course I did. What fun would it have been if I'd just said 'Okie dokie, great to see you. So glad you could make it!'"

"I don't know. We could have been having fun in our villa that first afternoon as soon as Elisabetta hit the road."

"And then I would have missed watching you from your doorway at the crack of dawn, sexy man."

Edward smiles but then shakes his head with his eyebrows raised. "True, but I could have missed my drunken night from hell imagining all the ways Leonard the Lover was sexing you."

"Oh no, really?"

"Yes, really."

"It was that bad?"

"Hell yes. What did you think? That I imagined you were playing dominoes and drinking tea? I mean, the way you described your endless sex in college, and we were on shaky ground still…I would've been an idiot not to worry."

She slowly runs her hand over his chest and then trails kisses across his jaw. "I'm sorry for your worry, baby. I think you know that you're all I want, Edward."

"So no more private evenings with Leonard the Lover?"

She shakes her head. "No, you or Jacob or both will be my escorts."

"That's better," he says before he kisses her.

"You get all my private evenings, handsome. My dance card is completely full of just you."

"As it should be."

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. He moans as he winds his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. She finally pulls back to take a breath, but he won't let go as he kisses her neck and breathes her scent.

She smiles. "Horizontal dancing. My favorite kind."

.

..~*~..

.

Their first full day back is a whopping dose of reality. Bella wakes up with a headache and breaks a glass after breakfast, then cuts her hand while cleaning up the remains. To top things off, Edward's grumpy as he rushes off for a meeting at Esme's Place. Later, while Bella faces the list of potential clients she has to return calls and emails to, she leans into her hands and sighs.

_Can we go back to Italy now?_

She knows they're both fighting the post-vacation blues. It's unavoidable. At some point home, and all of the stress of moving your life from one day to the next, must be faced.

After lunch, she calls him because she misses him terribly.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hi," she responds. "How'd the meeting go?"

He sighs. "Oh, as much fun as you'd expect sitting with lawyers and accountants the day after the vacation of your life."

"Really?" asks Bella, thrilled at his description.

"Yes, Isabella. Lawyers and accountants are a particularly trying breed. But surely you know this. "

"No, actually, I was reacting to your comment that it was the vacation of your life."

"Well, of course it was. We had an amazing time didn't we?

"The best," she agrees. "I'm already planning our trip back. Do you mind?"

"No, baby…plan away. Let's go back to Villa Eugenia."

"You better mean it because I'm emailing Elisabetta as we speak. How does next May sound to you?"

"How about December. Christmas in Lucca?"

"Are you serious? Can you come home so I can pleasure you, Mr. Wonderful?"

"Don't tease me like that when I'm stuck here. I have a meeting with Alice at four."

"Well, I've been baking you something. How about if I come by before and bring you some?"

"Baking? What are you bringing me?"

She laughs. "Something delicious."

"I'm sure. But more importantly, will you be wearing panties?"

"What?" she gasps playfully.

"Nevermind," he teases. "Surprise me."

.

At three-fifteen when Bella steps into Esme's Place, she marvels at the progress that's been made since her last visit. To her eye, the place looks finished and the bright cheerful colors put a smile on her face.

She grins widely when she sees Maria's mural completed. It's even more spectacular in real life than it looked on Edward's laptop screen in Lucca. She feels so proud of Edward, that his dream's almost realized. He's come so far from the lost soul she met only months ago to being the accomplished and vibrant man he is today.

She wanders around until she finds him in Esme's old office on the phone. He smiles widely and waves her in, gesturing that he'll just be a minute. She carries her little basket over to the table he's working at. There are invoices, notes, and blueprints scattered all over the table.

As he talks, Bella finds an empty spot and starts pulling things out of her basket. She spreads out a napkin first, then arranges a little plate with her homemade cookies and peanut butter bars. Edward's eyes light up as he watches her. Finally, she takes out two cups and a Thermos and pours them coffee, already lightened with milk and sugar.

She can tell he's talking to the contractor and he's rushing to get off the phone. He lets out a big sigh when he finally hangs up.

"Oh, Isabella," he says, grinning and pointing to her treats. "Look at this!"

"You're working so hard, and fighting jet lag so I figured you could use a pick-me-up," she says.

He reaches his hands out to her. "Come here."

She walks around the table and settles onto his lap as he wraps his arms around her.

"I'm so glad to see you," he says. "I've missed you all day."

"I've missed you too," she says, leaning into him. She reaches over and grabs a cookie off the plate then offers it to him.

"Did you really bake these for me?" he asks.

"I did."

He takes a bite and she brushes the crumbs off his lips.

"Like it?" she asks.

"Mmm," he responds. His eyes suddenly light up. "Hey!"

"What?"

"Are you wearing panties?"

She reaches over and breaks off a piece of peanut butter bar and then offers it to him. "Maybe," she says, grinning.

"Hmmm," he says, his eyesbrows raised.

"Or maybe not," she whispers.

"There's only one way to know for sure," he says, running his hand up her calf and under her skirt.

Her eyes grow wide as his hand moves higher until it reaches her bare skin.

"Oh, yeah," he sighs, his fingers exploring.

Feeling a flush move across her chest, she winds her fingers through his hair and pulls him closer.

He presses his face into her cleavage and moans, but a moment later they hear a door close and Alice's voice as she calls out for him.

"Edward, I know you're here. I saw your car!"

They both freeze and seem to forget that Edward has one hand up Bella's skirt as Alice approaches the office. Edward manages to pull his hand away just before she notices them.

"Ah ha!" Alice exclaims. "No wonder you weren't answering. Shoot, I'm sorry I'm so early. Traffic was much lighter than I expected. Did I interrupt?"

Bella blushes as she slides off his lap. "Sorry, we were just catching up."

"Uh huh," Alice responds, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you been together non-stop for over a week?"

"Well, yes," Bella replies guiltily. "But he's been working all day. I just brought him a treat to perk him up."

"A treat indeed," Alice teases. She walks over to the table and eyes the peanut butter bars. "Can I?"

"Help yourself," Bella offers. "I baked them earlier today."

Alice lifts up the bar and takes a bite, but a moment later her cell phone prompt goes off. She looks at the screen. "Shit! I forgot about Lauren."

"Lauren?" Edward asks.

"She had a meeting in the valley and asked if she could drop this off while I'm here."

"Why here?" Edward says, echoing what Bella's already thinking.

"I don't have to tell you of all people, Edward, that she's a pushy broad. I mean, I thought I was bad, but she takes the cake. I'm glad she's bringing some big money into this project, but I feel like we're all going to pay for it."

Bella steps away from the desk, suddenly feeling awkward to be witnessing this conversation. Edward glances up at her and then over at Alice.

"Don't worry," he says to Bella reassuringly.

"I'll try not to," she says quietly.

A moment later they hear another voice calling out and Bella cringes. It seems Lauren has arrived. Bella brushes the crumbs off her skirt and suddenly feels very naked without her panties.

"There you are, Alice," Lauren exclaims as she storms into the office. "And Edward! Good to see you."

"Hello, Lauren," he says cautiously as he stands up.

Lauren notices Bella standing to the right of Edward and stares at her intently.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Lauren, Edward's…wife, and you are?"

But before Bella can respond, Edward moves over to her, slips his arm around Bella's waist, and leads her forward a step. "Isabella, this is my _ex, _Lauren." He gestures to an annoyed looking Lauren. "And Lauren, this is my girlfriend, Isabella."

Lauren smiles at Bella and nods her head. "So you're Isabella. Well, how nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Bella responds graciously.

She's rather taken aback by Lauren's ultra-polished look. Bella just can't imagine Edward lying in a field with this sophisticated looking woman in her pressed tan slacks and chocolate brown silk shirt. Her hair is artfully colored in shades of gold and her beautiful features are emphasized with make-up. Bella suddenly feels extremely unglamorous but she suspects that Edward prefers that about her.

Edward notices the two women studying each other and he pulls Bella closer protectively.

Meanwhile, Bella watches Lauren's judgmental gaze trail down to her wrinkled skirt and her hand reflexively smoothes over it. _I bet she doesn't have a rainbow skirt in her closet,_ Bella thinks, trying not to smile. She could never be a Lauren, nor would she want to be.

"So, you and Edward were in Italy, yes?" She turns to Edward. "Remember, Edward, that we almost honeymooned there."

Bella feels her stab acutely but tries to brush it off. They could have had the most romantic honeymoon in the world, but it doesn't change the fact that he belongs to her now.

Edward pulls Bella even closer to his side. "Why are you here, Lauren?"

Lauren glances down at the table and sees the basket of goodies on the table. She notices the protective stance Edward has as he holds his girlfriend. He can tell she's calculating the situation.

She smiles brightly at Edward. "I just wanted to get this revised list and information to Alice right away. Besides, I wanted to see how the place is progressing. It looks really sharp, Edward. Esme would be so pleased."

"Thanks," he responds.

Alice turns to Lauren. "Well, Edward and I need to go over things but I can show you around first, if you'd like."

"That'd be great," Lauren replies.

"And I'm going to head out," Bella says. "I have an appointment I need to get to."

"Here, let me walk you out," Edward says.

"Nice to meet you, Lauren," she says as she and Edward pass his ex.

"Yes, I'm sure I'll see you at the event," Lauren responds brightly.

.

When they get to her car Edward turns Bella around.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "I'm sorry about all of that back there."

"It's fine," Bella assures him. "I know whatever her intentions are, that you want to be with me now."

"Absolutely," he agrees.

"And I had to meet her at some point. Probably better now than at the event."

He grins at her.

"What?" she asks.

"You're amazing."

"I hope so. You deserve amazing after all you've put up with from me."

"It's been so rough," he teases, pulling her close.

"Torture," she agrees, running her hands up his chest. "But seriously, Edward. You've put up with a lot."

"I know," he says. "But I'd do it all over again. You're worth it."

They're in the middle of a kiss when Alice steps out into the parking lot.

"Enough with the kissing you two," she calls out. "We've got stuff to go over."

"All right, all right," Edward replies back after finally pulling away from Bella.

He opens Bella's car door for her. "I'm going to be late," he reminds her. "We have a rehearsal tonight."

"I know, but I'll keep the bed warm for you."

He smiles as he shuts the door and leans into her open window. "Believe me, I'll get home as soon as I can." He notices her eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Hey, do me a favor and don't give any of your peanut butter bars to your pushy '_wife_.'"

He throws back his head and laughs.

"See, I'm not that nice, am I?" Bella says.

"You're my kind of nice, baby. Hey, give me one more kiss," he urges.

She places her hands on either side of his face and plants one on him, reminding him exactly what will be waiting for him when he gets home tonight. He sighs with a smile on his face as he pulls away and she starts up her car.

She notices in her rearview mirror that he still looks smitten as he watches her pull out of the parking lot.

.

When he turns to head to Alice, she rolls her eyes. "Come on, Romeo, we've got work to do."

Edward is deep in thought as he reaches her.

"So I take it Italy went well," she teases. "I've never seen you like this, Edward."

"Honestly, I've never felt like this, Alice. I'm crazy about her."

Alice steps up to him and rustles his hair. "You love sick fool! I'm so glad you worked things out. It's great to see you so happy."

His expression suddenly shifts. "Has Lauren left yet? That was really awkward in there."

Alice rolls her eyes. "I know. Sorry about that, and no—she's still here. You know we need to sit down after the event and figure out what to do about her. She's bringing in some impressive supporters for the project, but I'm sure she has an agenda."

"Should I say something about it to her now?"

"No, I wouldn't," Alice responds. "There's too much in place for the show. We just need to stay on our path, but after the event would be the perfect time to make any changes before you forge ahead towards the center's opening."

They step inside and find Lauren studying Maria's mural.

"Isn't it great?" Alice comments to her.

Lauren nods and waves her hand toward the expansive piece of art. "It's striking. A bit bright for my taste-too much yellow overall, but I'm sure the kids will like it."

Edward bites his tongue as Lauren turns to face him. He'd almost forgotten how critical Lauren could be. Her tastes in art and music were always very focused and unforgiving.

As Alice starts to respond, Edward notices something in Lauren's hand. She lifts up the last bit of a peanut butter bar and pops it in her mouth and then slowly licks her fingertips.

His stomach churns as he turns away.

.

..~*~..

.

After checking her messages, Bella excitedly calls Angela, but her friend jumps in before Bella can start talking.

"How's my Bella Italia?" Angela asks. "Did you have a good time? I've been dying to hear from you. What happened with Leo?"

Bella takes a big breath. "Oh my God, Angela, I have so much to tell you. We need face-time. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Sure. How about Firefly at seven?"

"Sounds good. I'll tell you about Italy then, but meanwhile I'm dying to know what's happening with Carly and Jacob. He just texted me that you guys are flying him out here so he can take Carly to a wedding? What's that all about? I already responded, but I got nothing out of him."

"Sorry, it all happened while you were gone so I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? Mind? You know how I feel about Carly, I'm just trying not to get my hopes up. I mean, we could eventually be grandparents together, Angela!"

"Hold on, my friend. Don't have them procreating yet…this is still a friends thing."

"Really? Are you sure? Tell all please."

"Okay, you know that self-centered pretty boy Carly has been involved with? It's been very up and down, especially since the beginning of this year. Anyway, about four weeks ago, he told Carly that he didn't want to go with her to her best friend's wedding. He was invited on a boy's scuba trip in Catalina and he admitted that he never wanted to go to the wedding anyway."

"Oh, poor Carly."

"Yes, well, that was the last straw for her and she finally dumped him. So ever since then she's wondered who she wanted to take with her. She's helped Hannah plan the wedding and she'd really been looking forward to it. So one morning at breakfast she lamented that Jacob was so far away because he would be her first choice for sure."

"Oh my God, I can't believe it. She really said that after all this time?"

"She did. So I remembered a flight voucher I had from a conference I had canceled and I offered it for Jacob if he was willing to go."

"And of course he was!"

"Carly said he agreed to take her immediately. And then they talked on the phone for almost two hours."

"Oh, Angela, I'm going to cry."

"I know, Bella, but we shouldn't get our hopes up," Angela warns.

"He's almost done with school and UCLA is one of the programs on his list."

"Belllllaaaaa," Angela warns.

"Oh okay," Bella agrees. "But don't be surprised if I get worked up again at dinner tonight."

.

..~*~..

.

The waiter sets down the glasses of wine and an order of fried, stuffed olives.

"So, Italy…" Angela says before taking a sip of her wine.

"The best trip of my life," Bella says with a dreamy look in her eyes.

Angela leans back, surprised. "Really? The best? So it must have gone very well with Leo."

"Well, yes, it went well with him, but what made this trip so grand is that a certain musician surprised me by showing up for my flight."

"What do you mean? Edward showed up for your flight? You were taking this trip together. Did I miss something?" Angela asks.

"But our big fight…"

"What big fight?" Angela's voice doesn't hide her concern.

Bella leans forward and rubs her temples with her hands. "Oh damn, I completely forgot that I didn't tell anyone about it. I'm such an idiot."

"Don't say that, Bella. You've just had a lot going on."

"Yeah, but you think I'd remember something so important."

"So what in the world happened?" asks Angela. "You had a fight? You'd been getting along so well."

"That's a long story for another time. For now, suffice to say we had a big disagreement and broke up right before the trip. So naturally, he wasn't going to go to Italy."

"Really? But then he went after all? Wait…he surprised you on the plane?"

"He sure did," Bella says, grinning. "He told me that he still loved me, and that he missed me."

"How romantic," Angela sighs. "See, I knew he was crazy in love with you."

"It was very romantic. He was very brave to get on that plane and bare his soul."

"So did you head straight to bed after you arrived?"

Bella blushes and looks down, embarrassed. "No, I wasn't ready. I think I was in shock and scared to lose him again. But he was patient with me. He waited until I knew I could handle being close again."

Angela studies Bella's face and sets down her glass. "I'm kind of surprised. You're usually so impetuous."

"I know, but this trip was so intense and fraught with emotion in every way. On top of that, Edward means so much to me and suddenly losing him crushed me. I didn't want to mess this up again."

"And Leo? How did that go?"

"It was dramatic and very emotional, but thankfully he's happy to know he has a son. I was so nervous, Angela."

"I can imagine," she says.

"Thank God it went okay. He was kinder to me than I deserved."

"How did he look after all these years?"

"Too good. Believe me, that didn't help anything."

"Oh dear, so Edward must have been jealous."

Bella nods her eyes wide.

"Good lord. Never a dull moment with you, Bella."

.

..~*~..

.

She stirs in bed as she hears footsteps move across her bedroom floor.

"Baby, it's me," Edward says softly.

She opens her eyes and sees his dark silhouette standing next to the bed. He slowly pulls of his shirt and drops it to the floor. He undoes his jeans and pushes them off.

"You're home," she says happily…sleepily, as she turns in bed to face him.

"I'm sorry it's so late," he says. "It didn't go well and we worked later than I expected. I'm so beat."

"Poor baby," she coos as she pulls back the blankets. "Come to bed."

With only his boxers remaining, he climbs into bed and pulls the sheets up to his waist.

She curls up next to him and runs her hand over his bare chest. "Are you hungry?" she asks. "I can fix you something."

"No, thanks. We ordered pizza so I'm okay."

"Can I at least give you a back rub?" she asks.

"Oh, twist my arm," he moans as he rolls to his stomach, and she crawls up so that she can straddle her legs over him.

She runs her hands over his shoulders and then slowly starts to knead his tightly wound muscles.

"Take a deep breath," she suggests as her fingers work through the knots.

She feels his chest rise and fall with each inhalation.

"That feels so good, Isabella," he moans.

She runs her fingers through his hair and starts to rub his scalp with a firm grip. "Oh, this head has been thinking too hard," she says playfully.

"Yeah, trying to figure out how to finish up that mess and get back here to you," he says.

"That's so sweet," she says softly.

"I wanted to make love to you but now I'm too damn tired," he groans.

She leans over his bare back and kisses him right under his hairline. "It's okay, handsome. We'll have our time later."

She keeps rubbing and kneading, all the while admiring the strength and definition in his back. He has the body of a much younger man and she feels herself getting aroused just being close to him, enjoying his scent and warmth. She talks herself out of seducing him, knowing he's exhausted and has no energy to make love.

Soon after doing several cycles of massaging up along his spine, she notices that his breathing has changed and that he's fallen asleep. She shifts her pace to caresses, rubbing her hands over his shoulders and through his hair. Even though her touch is light she can sense it's still relaxing him.

She carefully lifts herself off him, and lies down by his side while continuing to stroke his arm and rub his back. She thinks about her visit in the afternoon, and how Lauren showed up. She wonders how late Lauren stayed after she left. Her nerves start to fray.

"You're mine," she whispers softly, grazing her fingertips along his cheek and jaw as he sleeps.

She remembers with satisfaction how he wrapped his arm around her and introduced her to Lauren as his girlfriend. In a swell of affection, she reaches over and kisses his shoulder and then runs her hand low until it skims over his ass.

She smiles as she feels him, his muscles, his perfection. As her hand slides under his waistband for better access, she rolls to her back. With her hand resting over him, she slides her other hand between her legs.

She gazes at him sleeping as she touches herself, trying to remain silent as her feelings stir. She closes her eyes for a moment and when she opens them again, she startles to see his eyes are wide open and watching her.

She freezes and eases her hand up on her stomach. "Oh, damn, I woke you up," she says, embarrassed.

He doesn't respond, just smiles softy at her.

She can feel her cheeks fire with warmth as she pulls her hand off his ass and slides it out of his shorts. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was bad. I'll leave you alone now. Go back to sleep, handsome."

He watches her for a moment and then shakes his head. "I'm not going back to sleep, Isabella," he says.

She takes a sharp breath. "Just try. I'll stop, I promise."

He shifts to his side so that he's facing her. His gaze travels down to where her hand is lingering low on her belly. "Do you really want me to go back to sleep?"

"Not really," she admits shyly.

He takes her hand and presses it over him. Her eyes go wide at the realization he's fully aroused.

"Believe me, baby. I'm not going back to sleep."

She smiles sweetly. "Are you sure?"

"Hush," he whispers while he rolls her on her side and then spoons up against her.

She hums with happiness. The way he's holding her feels so perfect.

"Is this too much?" he asks, fully aware that his arousal is pressing against her.

She takes a sharp breath and presses against him suggestively. "You know I want more," she whispers.

His hand slips between her thighs and she moans softly with the contact.

"I can tell," he whispers.

He reaches down and positions himself, then slowly eases into her. His breath catches with the overwhelming sensation when he's fully seated inside of her.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks, his lips gently skimming her jaw.

"Yes…God, yes," she says under her breath.

His fingers gently pull on her nipples while he moves slowly in and out of her. She feels his mouth against her neck as he trails wet kisses down to her shoulder.

"Yes," she groans, her hips rocking against his.

"Touch yourself while I love you," he whispers.

Her fingers move adeptly and his thrusts get erratic, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hip.

"Edward," she gasps.

"Come on, baby."

"What?" she gasps, so close.

"Take me with you," he says, low in her ear.

"Are you almost there?" she asks.

He nods before his eyes roll back and close, knowing that sometimes making love measured and quietly is more powerful.

She takes off slow, but then builds to a fierce roar as she pulls him along with her. There is a hot, white light behind his closed eyes as he lets go completely and fills her.

She moans happily as their rocking becomes gentle, then finally stills. He pulls her closer and sighs.

"So good," she whispers, as she tips her head back and smiles at him.

"Oh, baby, all day long this was what I craved…to have you in my arms, to be this way with you," he says as kisses her shoulder.

"Me too," she whispers. "Welcome home."

.

.

* * *

_Wishing all of you the happiest of holidays. Your love and enthusiasm for this story is my most appreciated gift.  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Sweet & sexy pics are on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

_Also join me on Twitter dot com slash abstractway_


	29. Chapter 29 She Believes

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy who took time out of their holidays to do their magic. They're awesome.

* * *

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Nine / She Believes **

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"Can I ask you something?" Bella says to Edward as she sets a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.

"What's all this?" he asks, grinning as he surveys his food.

"You have another crazy day ahead of you. You need a good breakfast."

"Look at you taking good care of your man," he teases, reaching over to pull her close. "Thank you."

She smiles then moves to the counter to get the pot and refill his coffee. "You're welcome. Besides, I like taking care of you." After she finishes pouring, she leans down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I'll make you breakfast every morning if you'd like that."

He spreads the napkin on his lap, loads up his fork, and takes a bite. He sighs with happiness. "All righty then, I'm calling the moving truck today."

"Yeah?" she asks, settling into the chair across from him.

He smiles widely and nods his head as he takes another big bite of his breakfast.

She seems deep in thought as she stirs her coffee for a moment before speaking up again. "Actually, that kind of leads me to what I was going to ask earlier before you got all excited about your eggs. I know you're teasing me about moving in and everything but I've been wondering, where are things with your divorce?"

Edward looks up startled and sets his fork down. The color starts to drain from his face. He looks completely awake now. "My divorce?" he asks.

Bella looks embarrassed. "I guess meeting Lauren yesterday and her calling herself your _wife_ made me think about it. I realized that you haven't talked about the divorce in a while."

"Oh, I see," he says, scratching his chin.

"Am I not supposed to bring it up?" she asks, feeling insecure all of a sudden.

"No. No…of course you can. I'm just surprised. You've never asked about it like that before."

She tips her head. "Well, I'm curious."

"I'm not sure what's happening exactly. My lawyer said they were at a standstill because Lauren is insisting that she needs to talk to me."

"Privately?" Bella asks, her stomach suddenly feeling unsettled.

Edward looks down at his food and pushes the plate forward. "I guess so." He looks back up at Bella. "You know I don't want to have that kind of talk with her."

"But she will hold you hostage until you do. Is that it?"

He shrugs. "Maybe so. To be honest I've been focused solely on the event, getting the center open, and you." He stops and quickly corrects himself. ."…and not in that order."

Bella smiles sweetly at him.

"I really have pushed Lauren and the divorce to the far corners of my mind."

Edward watches Bella examine her fingernails as she thinks.

"You don't think I'm putting it off for any reason…do you?" he asks.

"I wasn't sure. That's why I asked. I mean, we're talking about maybe living together and it occurred to me that I don't think I should live with someone who's still married."

His surprise is evident as he speechlessly blinks at her several times. He realizes that the lightheartedness that he woke up with is gone.

"Ah, so that's what this is all about." He rubs his hands over his face and lets out a long sigh. "Okay," he replies before pulling his plate forward and taking another bite.

She sets her coffee cup down. "Okay? That's it…okay?" She doesn't try to mask her frustration.

"Well, as long as we're laying our cards on the table, I don't think I should move in with someone who has a bottle of suicide pills on her mantle." He sets down his coffee cup and gives her a look.

Her expression crumbles. "That was cruel."

"Really? I thought it was honest. Having those pills still there is cruel to me, Isabella."

"But we were going to talk about it after I spoke with Jacob. Come to a resolution."

"I know, but when?" he asks. "Have you made a plan to talk to Jacob yet?"

"No. Okay, I see your point." She lets out a long sigh. "Like the divorce, things aren't happening as fast as you'd like."

"Exactly."

She notices his fingers curl up as his hands rest on the table.

"We can slow this down if you'd like," he says as he stands up and takes his dish to the sink.

She fights back her tears. "That isn't what I meant. I'm sorry I brought up anything. I just messed everything up."

"Look, Isabella." He steps up behind her and rests his hands on her shoulders. "I'm exhausted and totally stressed. We're both short tempered, readjusting to being home and that our fantasy vacation is over."

"Do you think the way we were in Italy was all a fantasy? Not real?" Her bottom lip quivers and she bites it to hold it still.

"I'm not saying that. Hell, I can't believe that last night we were making love and we woke up raring to fight." He huffs and squints with frustration. "Let's just stop, okay? I'm late and I've gotta go anyway. We can try to talk about this tonight."

"But…" Bella protests, but Edward stops her.

"I've gotta go," he insists. He squeezes her shoulder and reaches down and kisses her on the cheek. "I'll call you later and let you know what time I'll be home."

She nods silently and tries not to panic as the sound of his footsteps fade while he moves further and further away from her.

.

..~*~..

.

As Bella cleans the kitchen up from breakfast, she admonishes herself.

_What was that about? Are you trying to push him away?_

She wonders if Lauren will be at _Esme's Place_ again today. It's her jealously of Lauren that put her in this foul mood in the first place. She swings between telling herself to let it go, and then scheming what excuse she can use to stop by and check on things. Is she becoming the very kind of woman she despises?

Her mind starts spinning like a top until she grabs her phone and decides to reach out to the one person who could give her some real insight as to what is going on.

Gratefully, Rose picks up on the second ring.

"Hi, Bella."

"Hi, Rose. Do you have a free minute?"

"Sure, the kids are at school and I'm just paying bills. What's up?"

Bella pauses. "Rose, this is awkward and you don't have to answer me, but I think you're the best person for me to talk to about Edward, and I have a few questions."

Rose's surprise silences her for a moment but then she answers. "Sure, Bella. What's up?"

"I'm just wondering if you think I have anything to worry about with Lauren? I mean beyond the obvious, that she's still married to Edward," Bella explains.

"Why do you ask?" Rose asks cautiously

"Are you sure you don't mind talking about this?" Bella questions.

"No, I don't mind," Rose responds. "If I can be helpful I want to be."

Bella takes a deep breath. "Well yesterday I met Lauren when she dropped by _Esme's Place_ and she made a point to introduce herself as Edward's wife."

Rose sighs. "I'm sure she did."

"I'm confused, Rose. I thought she left him. Does she want him back now or something? What about her boyfriend?"

"Well, I'm sorry to say that I heard through the grapevine that he moved out three weeks ago."

"They broke up?" Bella asks.

"Apparently," Rose says.

"I see," Bella says quietly while she tries to absorb the bad news.

"Edward loves you Bella," Rose says reassuringly. "It doesn't matter if Lauren has changed her mind about Edward now that he's better than ever. That isn't going to make a difference to him. He's done with her."

_Lauren has changed her mind?_ Bella tries to refocus before responding to Rose.

"I love him, too," Bella says. "I feel even worse now about our argument this morning."

"Was it about Lauren?"

"It was about why their divorce isn't moving along. Can I ask you? What did you and Lauren fight about when we were in Italy?"

"So Edward told you about that?" she asks.

"Yes, although he didn't tell me what you argued about."

"Let's just say she was trying to stake her claim again, and I didn't like it. She was saying disparaging things about you-I guess she's been digging around for information from their mutual friends, and it pissed me off. She's trying to manipulate things but she doesn't get how serious Edward is about you."

Bella is silent as she processes Rose's words. "Digging around?" Bella asks with a weak voice, trying to imagine what in the world Lauren could dig up about her.

"Never mind that, Bella. You do know how serious Edward is about you, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, and I feel the same. So believe me the last thing I want to do is deal with Lauren going after him again."

"I know. That day I was at _Esme's Place,_ Lauren showed up and started asking about Edward. I informed her that you and he were on a romantic trip in Italy."

"I'm assuming she didn't like hearing about that."

"No she didn't, and she started making snide comments and that's when I went off and told her exactly what I thought about what she did to Edward."

"I'm sorry, Rose. That must have been awful for you."

"Don't you worry about me; I've always had issues with Lauren, but especially since her affair and the way she treated Edward when he was so down. I'd been angry with her a long time and just waiting for Edward to get over her. Our argument was a long time coming. Besides, Edward has moved on and healed thanks to you and I refuse to sit back and let her try to mess things up."

"I appreciate that you're looking out for Edward, and for me too, Rose."

"I'll be honest with you. Emmett is furious at me. He says I should just stay out of it, that it's none of my business. But I can't help it—I 'm protective when it comes to my brother and this is the happiest I've seen him in a long time."

"Well, I'm grateful for that. So how would you handle things if you were me?"

"Look, I know Edward is crazy about you. There's no doubt about that and that you're who he wants to be with. What I'm worried about is that she'll start stirring up trouble to wear you guys down. Just don't let that happen."

Bella thinks about the way she called herself Edward's _wife_ and how that simple gesture had eaten away Bella's confidence. Isn't that ultimately what led to their disagreement this morning? If Lauren does indeed have a plan, it's already working.

Before saying goodbye, Bella assures Rose that she won't let Lauren's agenda come between her and Edward. After she sets the phone down, she decides to get dressed and head to her studio.

She needs to vent and process this swirl of emotions. It's time to create.

.

..~*~..

.

Edward stops at the music shop in Burbank to pick up some of the new and reconditioned equipment purchased for _Esme's Place._ The studio's locked storage cabinets are finally finished and ready to be filled.

When he arrives at the space the linoleum guy is finishing up the main room. Edward smiles, knowing he can cross off one more item off his list.

"Just in the nick of time!" The contractor points out.

"It's all coming together," Edward agrees. "Our fundraiser's tomorrow night and some shots are being taken of this room this afternoon to be included in the presentation."

"This place is cool," the installer says. "I bet my boy would play some fine music if he had a place like this to come."

"Well, if he's interested he's welcome," Edward offers.

"Really?" the man asks, lifting himself off the floor to face Edward. "We have three kids, and we really can't afford lessons or anything like that."

"This is free. Your son would just have to make a commitment to practice, take good care of his instrument, and come regularly for lessons. Do you think he would be willing to do that?"

The man's face brightens. "I'm sure he would. When he's interested in something, he's obsessed. And he loves music."

"That's great," Edward responds. "So come see me next month and we'll set something up."

As the worker gathers up his installation tools, Edward studies the colorful pattern on the floor and it makes him think about Bella. He still has an uneasy feeling from their conflict this morning. Bella really surprised him with her comments about his divorce. He can understand though. He wouldn't like it if she were still married.

He resolves to start pushing harder to get the divorce wrapped up. He picks up the phone to call Emmett but his assistant, Kathy, lets Edward know that he's in a client meeting. He relays the message that he wants the divorce sped up. She assures Edward that she'll have Emmett return the call as soon as possible.

.

..~*~..

.

In her studio, Bella is transfixed by her computer screen. She scans through vintage advertisements she's found geared towards housewives in the fifties. There's something so creepy in the perfection of their domestic world. She manipulates a few images and then prints them out to paste into her art journal.

The first advertisement is of a proud woman in a starched housedress holding up a roast she's just pulled out of the oven. Her expression is proud and serene, which makes the fact that Bella photoshopped the image so that the roast is on fire, even more amusing. Bella writes at the top of the page _Is This What Home is?_

The next image is a woman in an apron, who has an eerie resemblance to Lauren, serving her husband a cocktail as he unwinds by the fireplace with his pipe. Bella smirks at the arm and leg restraints she's added to the image. The title _Or Could This Be What Home is?_ is in bold lettering at the top of the page.

The next page is blank except for a single word written in the center of the page: _No._

The forth and final page is the picture of her and Edward arm in arm at the beach in Cinque Terre, glowing with happiness. She has dropped the picture into the shape of a heart and then drawn a simple stick figure house around it. At the top of the page she has written in simple small letters, Home Is Where the Heart Is.

As she fills in the outlines of the lettering her phone rings. When she sees Edward's name on her screen, she shrinks, wondering for a moment if he somehow could see what she's doing.

"Isabella, it's me."

"Hi you," she says softly.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the studio."

"Are you in the middle of printing?" he asks.

"No, I'm working on my art journal."

There's a pause as he tries to figure out how to react to the idea of her journaling after their disagreement.

"Edward?" she asks. "Look, I'm sorry about his morning. I shouldn't have said what I did about the divorce. You're under so much pressure this week. I'm so sorry. Your wife just got to me yesterday."

He bristles at Bella calling Lauren his wife.

"Isabella, can you meet me in the front yard?" he asks.

_The front yard?_ "Why?" she responds.

"I'm late to pick up Sean, but I need to see you for a moment," he answers.

"You're here?" she asks excitedly, dropping her phone before he can answer. Bella hurries out of her studio and across the yard. When she reaches the front, Edward moves toward her with his arms open and her spirits rise to realize that he doesn't look mad anymore.

They fall together and hold onto each other tightly.

"I just needed to hold you," he whispers. "I needed to see you, even if for just a minute."

"Really?" she asks. "I'm so glad you came." She breathes into his neck and finds comfort in his scent and warmth. "I didn't want to bother you at work, but I almost called you too, I felt so bad."

"Yes, I'm so sorry I hurt you, baby. I shouldn't have brought up the pills like I did. I feel sick about it."

She presses her cheek against his shoulder. "But you were right. I understand why you said what you did."

"I called Emmett," he says as he rubs his chin over the top of her head.

"About the divorce?" she asks.

"Yes. He was in a meeting but I left the message that I want things to pick up speed."

"Really?" she asks, smiling softly.

He nods. "I don't want a single reason for you to doubt how much I want to be with you. You're my future, Isabella. The past is behind us."

She grins as she reaches up to kiss him. He tastes sweet and it makes her want him all the more.

"I love you so much," she whispers.

"Oh, Isabella, I love you too. You know it's just that the stress of all of this-the opening, the divorce, Leo coming to visit soon…it's turned me into a beast."

"Hardly," she huffs. "You're human. You're under a lot of pressure. I'll tell you what. I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

"Deal," he says happily, squeezing her tight. His phone rings and he looks at his watch and sighs. "I've got to go," he says sadly.

"I know," she says. "Thank you for coming by. Thank you for being wonderful."

"Yeah?" he asks, grinning. "I'm still your man?"

She pulls him close and kisses him like it's the last kiss her lips will ever be lucky enough to share. His heart thunders, his blood pressure soars, and he suddenly completely understands what it means to swoon.

"Yeah," she whispers as they part, nodding her head and grinning. "You're still _my_ man."

.

..~*~..

.

"Bella?"

She looks at her phone screen twice to make sure she didn't misread it_. Good lord, what now? _

"Leo?" she asks nervously, marveling at his timing. Edward hasn't even been gone ten minutes when Leo pops back into her world. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes," he assures her. "Actually, I wanted to let you know that I'm coming to California for a few weeks and I'm hoping to see you."

"What?" Bella asks, startled. This is too soon. She has too much to deal with already without Leo coming into town.

"There's a possibility I could be there even longer," he says. "Do you know yet when Jacob is returning home?"

"What a minute," she says. "Why are you coming?"

"I'd been offered an assignment in Los Angeles a while back, for a book about the Italian culture and people living in Los Angeles-things like contrasting Venice, Italy with Venice, California. With this turn of events, I've decided to take the job."

"I see," says Bella. "Where will you be staying?"

"I'm working that all out," he responds. There is a silent pause. "You don't sound happy about my coming, Bella."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Leo. It's not that. There's just a lot going on right now. We just got home and are still trying to settle and get caught up with things."

"So you will see me?" he asks carefully.

"Yes, we will work all of it out when you know more details of your timing. Actually, I should warn you that Jacob is coming out to L.A. the weekend after next to attend a wedding. But it's going to be a really quick trip. I don't think that would be the time for you two to meet."

"In two weeks?" Leo asks excitedly. "When was this planned?"

"I just found out," replies Bella, starting to wonder why she mentioned it. This total disclosure thing can make life very tricky.

"I hear the worry in your voice, Bella," Leo says gently. "Let's just take things one at a time. I will let you know when I'm coming and then we will talk. I have some ideas that I want to discuss with you."

Bella sighs, reminding herself that Jacob belongs to Leo now, too. She's opened that door and now she has to let him walk through it. "Okay, Leo. Just call me when you have your plans set."

.

After their goodbyes, she sets the phone back down with a flood of worries and then laughs at her craziest thought. Perhaps she should introduce Leo to Lauren.

_Yes, now that's an idea!_

.

..~*~..

.

After dinner of vegetable soup and French bread, Bella starts digging through her closet to figure out what to wear to the event. She lets out a long sigh. Considering that it's tomorrow night, she really should have figured it out earlier.

She pulls out a velvet skirt that has swirls of various shades of blue._ Too close to the rainbow skirt,_ she thinks, smiling. She remembers a low cut wrap-dress Leah had convinced her to buy when she finally decided she needed to start dating after her mom passed. She pushes off her clothes and pulls on the dress, wrapping it tightly and then slipping on some heels at the back of the closet.

She steps back from the full length mirror and turns side to side as she smoothes the fabric over her hips. It's a little shorter than she remembers, revealing a lot of leg. She wonders what Edward would think of this dress on her with her cleavage showcased. Maybe it's a bit too sexy for her to be comfortable in with a crowd of people to meet.

She wonders what Lauren will wear and for a moment, she reconsiders the dress. She reminds herself that this isn't a competition and she starts to undo the tie belt. Stepping inside the closet once more, she picks out her burgundy embellished skirt with a contrasting vintage 1940's fitted jacket. She smiles and feels settled as she pulls out her dress shoes and evening bag.

.

.

By eight-thirty, she starts to wonder when Edward will be calling to say he's headed home. She finally texts him and he calls immediately after. He sounds really agitated.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "Can I do anything?"

"No, sorry. It's just been a long day and Lauren just called and is insisting that she has to pick up a painting that belongs to her from my place tonight."

"What?"

"You know the one in the entry way? I gave that to her a number of years ago for her birthday, but she always claimed she didn't like it. Suddenly she has to have it back."

"Why can't it wait until another time?"

"She's hoping to have some of the people she's bringing to the event over to her house tomorrow after the show and there's a big hole over the mantle from where her boyfriend took his painting when he moved out. Apparently he moved out several weeks ago."

"So what do you think about that?" Bella asks, not sharing yet that she'd heard the news about that from Rose.

"Not much." He laughs. "It really doesn't matter to me either way, does it? I just was never a fan of his, obviously."

"No, I'm sure you weren't," she agrees.

"So I'll call you when I'm headed over, okay?" he asks.

She worries, he sounds so tired. "Are you sure you're okay? Why don't I come over so I'll be there when Lauren shows up. That will get her out that much faster," she teases.

There's a tense pause, and Bella holds her breath, hopeful. "No, baby. I don't want you in the middle of all this. I'll take care of it."

Bella closes her eyes and tries to think of what to say that won't sound catty or desperate.

"But thanks for the generous offer," he teases back.

"I could help you get the painting down and we could leave it outside the front door," she offers.

"Isabella…"

"Yes?"

"You don't know how Lauren can get."

"Which is precisely why I want to be there."

"You know, if I wasn't so damn tired, this territorial side of you would get me really turned on."

She sighs.

"I'll call you as soon as she leaves. I promise."

After saying goodbye, she slips the phone in her breast pocket so that there's no possibility she will miss his call.

.

..~*~..

.

It's almost ten-fifteen when her phone rings. She is so unnerved that she has to take a deep breath before she answers. Her hands trembling, she doesn't tell him that she's already considered driving by his place to see why Lauren's still there. Would she have the courage to go to his door? Or would she slink away before they saw her, feeling too embarrassed to be spotted.

_What is happening to her?_ She's never been this way, but she's never been in love like this before. There is nothing like feeling threatened you could lose something to remind you exactly how much it means to you. Edward is her heart now. He is her everything.

"Isabella," he says quietly when she answers.

He sounds empty. Different.

"Are you okay? I was so worried. It's been a long time."

"She's finally gone," is all he says in response.

"Are you coming over now?" she asks with a measured tone.

He lets out a long sigh. "I have some stuff to finish here, and I'm so wiped out. I'm going to just crash here tonight."

"You're staying there?" Bella asks, her mouth suddenly very dry.

"I'm kind of a mess. I think I just need to lay low tonight," he explains.

She's never heard him sound so tired, so defeated.

"Do you want me to come over there?"

"I hope it's okay. I mean, I don't want to upset you, but I think I need to be alone right now."

She instinctively knows not to push him. "Okay, then. When will we talk again?"

"I'll call you in the morning, before I head in."

She pinches herself and knows she has to get off the phone or she'll start crying.

"Okay, just remember that I love you and I'm here if you need me. Goodnight, Edward," she says softly.

"Thank you, Isabella. I love you too. Goodnight."

.

_Stop it…stop it!_ She admonishes herself as she pulls on her nightgown and the tears trail down her face.

_He loves me, he loves__** me**__,_ she chants to herself.

She slides between the cold sheets of her bed and turns toward the silver light of her window. She thinks of the night less than a week ago that they slow danced on their balcony in Lucca, and the way he held her in his arms. In the next moment, the memory fades to a delicate wisp almost out of her reach.

It's only the faintest shimmer when she digs her heels into the mattress and clutches the sheets in her fists. With a single powerful focus, the memory takes shape again, but this time with weight and substance until she can feel Edward's warmth next to her and hear the steady beat of his heart.

He may be miles away in a loft, his happy demeanor worn around the edges and his spirit a bit broken from whatever Lauren said to him, but he is with her too, in his heart of hearts.

She's never understood more that their love is bigger than both of them, no chasm too wide and no ex too persuasive to keep them apart for long. No matter what they face, they will always find their way back to each other. He may need a night alone to deal with whatever made him so upset, but she will never let Lauren come between them. What she and Edward have built together has changed both of their lives.

She thinks about the idea that magic is not just a card trick, or rabbit pulled out of a hat. True magic is what seems to be impossible, becoming real. The key is that you have to believe.

Bella smiles. She's lived long enough to understand the wasteland of a heart without hope. Magic is everywhere. She doesn't need to wave a wand to see it.

She lives it and breathes it…Edward is her magic.

And she believes.

.

.

* * *

_Thanks so much for taking a moment to review...  
_

_New Years is just days away. Let's make 2013 an amazing year!  
_

_xoxo_

_abbie_

_Sweet & sexy pics are on the D&B FB page-check it out. Facebook dot com slash abstractway If you press "like" on the page you will automatically get notices of new postings._

_Also join me on Twitter dot com slash abstractway_


	30. Chapter 30 I'll Play for You

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy

* * *

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**

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirty / I'll Play For You**

.

Edward wakes up with a start and immediately understands that everything's wrong. Where's Isabella?

As his mind slowly clears, he remembers his decision to stay at his loft last night. Isabella is far away in her own bed.

He drags himself to the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. He takes it black, just like his mood. It isn't until he realizes that Isabella would chide him for drinking naked coffee that some light shines into the black haze of his mind.

As he rubs his hands over his face roughly, he regrets not staying with her last night. She must be worried. He looks at his kitchen clock and decides to wait until eight to call, so he doesn't wake her up.

He thinks about Lauren, and her posturing the night before. Acting like she was concerned about his relationship with Isabella then pushing him into a corner. It's no wonder they had such a vicious argument.

How dare she accuse Isabella of being unstable, and his affection for her a knee-jerk reaction to the implosion of their marriage. Why would Lauren think that belittling Isabella would make him interested in her again? She has no idea what Isabella means to him. Yes, Isabella may not be the type of woman he would've been drawn to earlier in his life, but now he understands that's the very reason she's perfect for him. She's exactly what he's always needed, but he needed to mature in this phase of his life to understand that.

And what about Lauren's infidelity? Somehow, the more heated their argument got, the more he ended up being blamed for everything. How is it his fault that she fucked her boyfriend in their bed while he was with Rose, mourning the death of their father?

Lauren was ugly last night…the angriest he's ever seen her. The worst part is that they're probably further from resolving their divorce than they were before their fight.

He pulls on his jacket and takes his coffee out to the balcony. From the view below, he observes the city waking up and he imagines people are starting their days, hopefully with a much lighter heart than he has today.

Minutes later, he's overwhelmed with the urge to talk to Isabella, so he pulls out his phone to check the time. Seven forty. He throws caution to the wind and calls her as he settles into the outdoor seat.

"Good morning," she says softly, with no anger or reproach. He's overwhelmed to realize what that means to him. It just makes him love her more.

"I'm sorry to call you so early, baby, but I was missing you." He imagines he can hear her smile through the phone.

"Oh, I'm missing you too. My bed was so empty last night without you in it," she says.

"Were you able to sleep at least?" he asks.

"A bit. And you?"

"Not much," he admits.

"I'm sorry you were so upset last night. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Lauren and I had a big fight. It was bad. I can't believe some of the stuff we said to each other."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Edward."

"You know what I think set her off?" He lets out a tired laugh. "She asked me about the colored flags hanging across the room and I told her you did that for me."

"Really?"

"And she took that as an opportunity to start giving me advice and it all went to hell from there. Can you believe she wants us to go into couple's therapy?"

"What? _Now_ she wants to do that?" Bella asks, shocked.

"Exactly!" Edward agrees. "I got to hear a long list about how I had neglected her and forced her to look for validation elsewhere. She knows now that her affair was a cry for help. She expected me to fight for her, show her I cared."

"Oh good God," Bella can't help saying, exasperated. "Does she really mean to blame you for everything?"

"I think she does. And Isabella, I'm not telling you all of this to upset you, but you need to know what went down because she's refusing to sign the divorce papers. She wants us to do the couple's therapy and give it another shot."

Bella is speechless. It's even worse than she imagined. "What do you want, Edward?"

"I want her to sign the damn papers!" he insists, exasperated.

"So what now?"

"I don't know…I really don't. I guess we have to get through tonight and then figure it out."

"Am I going to see you today?" Bella asks with a neutral tone, trying not to pressure him.

"Probably not until right before the show. I've got so much to do and I need some time to practice your song. I was too upset last night after she left. By the way, are you still bringing Angela?"

"Yes, she was hoping not to go alone but she wants to be there, so she's my date."

"I'm your date," he insists gruffly.

"Glad to hear it," she says playfully.

"Isabella," he says in a commanding voice. "You're the most important person attending tonight. None of this would have happened without your inspiration."

"Oh, Edward," she says sweetly.

"I mean it," he insists. "You're my date. Maybe you'll believe it when you hear your song."

"I can't wait," she says, her heart soaring. "So just focus on what you need to do today, and I'll see you tonight."

He sighs. "Thank you, Isabella. Thanks for understanding. I'm excited about the event but I also can't wait for tomorrow when we can just have some quiet time together again."

"Me too. I love you, Edward."

"I love you, too."

.

..~*~..

.

As Bella fixes her breakfast, she gets the idea to do something special for Edward tonight to celebrate the event and imminent launch of Esme's Place. After mulling over different possibilities, she decides she wants to do something private at home.

She heads over to Larchmont Village and stops at the wine shop first, consulting with the owner to pick out the best Italian Chianti. She grins with delight when his suggestion is from the same vineyard as the bottle they drank their final night in Lucca. At the market, she picks out a fresh basket of strawberries and large jar of Nutella.

Her final stop is the party store on Melrose Avenue where she picks out a colorful 'Congratulations' banner, and then two large groupings of balloons. As she heads to her car, she wonders for a moment if she will take flight, the helium lifting her into the clouds. She delights at the idea but soon faces the daunting task of fitting all the balloons into her car. She laughs as she struggles thinking she should just go get a few more bunches and tie them to the roof rack. She could float home then, like the little house in the Pixar movie 'Up!'.

She drives home slowly, taking side streets. After all, it can't be safe with the inside of her car looking like one of those preschool ball pits with her face peeking out of the colorful chaos. She has to bat them aside every time she has to look left or right.

Finally in her driveway, she unloads the car, filling her arms with all the goodies, but as she heads to her front door she stops suddenly in her tracks. As soon as she sees the tense couple on her doorstep a sick feeling comes over her.

_Oh no._

Observing her shopping bags and balloons, the couple can obviously see that she has no good reason to have kept them waiting. The woman looks like she's going to cry. The man glares at Bella, looks down at his watch with dramatic flair, and then glares at her once again for good measure.

"Oh no!" Bella finally calls out. "You're the Mitchells, aren't you!"

The woman silently nods and the man replies with a sarcastic tone, "How'd you guess?"

"Oh God, oh God…I'm so sorry. I can't believe this…I've never done this before, I swear."

"You forgot us," the woman says with a sad voice.

"Tess made this appointment months ago and confirmed it two days ago. How could you've forgotten?" the man asks.

Bella fights back the tears. "I don't know. I don't know! I'm so sorry!" She fumbles with her house keys and then hands a bunch of balloons to each of them to hold. "I'm sorry, can you please just hold these until I get the door open?"

The man gives her a looks of irritated disbelief as he stands in his expensive slacks and sweater holding the huge colorful bunch of balloons. She almost wishes she had her camera so she could photograph the unlikely scene.

Bella pushes the door open, and sets her groceries down before taking the bunches of balloons and dragging them into the house, then releasing them so that they gather up on the living room ceiling.

"Come in, come in," she gestures to the couple.

The couple warily steps into her house.

"What's your schedule like? Can you give me some time to set up?" Bella asks.

"You haven't set up?" the man asks, folding his arms over his chest.

The woman lets out a long sigh. "Frankly, I'm too upset now anyway to do the shoot. The pictures won't be any good."

Bella's shoulder's sag, all of her previous excitement about the day now drained from her. "Of course, I understand," she says sadly. "Please let me make this up to you. We can schedule the shoot for another time."

"I don't think so," says the husband. "Come on, Tess. Let's go."

"I feel terrible," Bella says, wringing her hands together. "I understand your decision. But if you reconsider later, I will waive my sitting fee. You'll only have to pay for your prints."

"Okay, well let us think about that. I was so looking forward to this," Tess says sadly. "I just love your work."

Bella follows them to the door. "Oh my, thank you for saying that. You're so gracious. Again, I apologize. I just got back from a big trip and I'm having trouble getting my bearings. If you change your mind, I'll make sure we get something wonderful."

The couple nods and leaves and as Bella shuts the door behind them, she closes her eyes and presses her forehead against the door.

_What is wrong with her? How could she forget a shoot?_

She drops herself into the armchair and stares up at the ceiling, filled with frustration and self-loathing as she watches the balloons slowly shift across the smooth stucco. Her gaze then travels to the mantle where she's reminded of what lies hidden there and everything it represents. Her greatest fear is losing her memory and any sign of it, from not being able to find her car keys, to forgetting to return a call, stirs her up inside. But she has never forgotten anything this major…an event that not only makes her feel terrible, but has ruined two other people's days as well.

Her chest tightens and her pulse speeds as she worries. Within moments she has a desperate urge to crawl out of her own skin. She tries to cling onto lucidity and calm herself down, wondering if she's at the forefront of a panic attack.

With shaky hands, she picks up her phone and calls Leah.

"Leah," she cries, having trouble controlling the tone of her voice.

"Bella!" Leah responds. "What's wrong, woman?"

"I just forgot something big, Leah. Something really big and I'm completely flipping out." Bella gasps for air. "I think I'm having a panic attack. I'm having trouble breathing. What do I do?" She can hear her heart thundering as she clutches the phone. She's breaking out in a cold sweat and feels clammy all over.

"Bella," Leah says authoritatively. "You're okay. You're okay. Repeat that back to me."

"I'm okay," Bella says unconvincingly.

"Good," Leah says. "We're going to calm you down now. Take a deep breath and as you release it, imagine your tension slowly easing out of you."

"I can't take a deep breath! I can hardly breathe," Bella squeaks.

"Focus, Bella!" Leah commands. "You're okay. Slowly drop your head between your knees and close your eyes."

"Yes, yes," Bella says feeling a tiny bit better just being curled up.

"Imagine I'm there now rubbing your back. Now take a slow breath. Okay?"

Bella breathes. "Okay, yeah."

"Good, good. Now take another. You're okay, Bella. You're fine and I'm here with you."

Bella smiles and takes another breath. She feels a bit calmer already. "And you're good at back rubs," she teases.

"Yes, I am," Leah replies, glad to hear her friend isn't as panicked. "And lucky for you I'm in your neighborhood. As a matter of fact, I'm heading over now."

"Oh, Leah. You don't have to come by. I know how busy you are."

"Shut up. I'm a block away now."

Bella laughs. "Did you just tell a woman in the middle of a panic attack to shut up?"

"That's the point isn't it?" Leah answers. "Your panic attack is over thanks to my brilliant distraction techniques."

"You're _so_ brilliant, and modest," Bella teases.

"Watch it. I'm in your driveway. Open the door, woman, I'm coming in."

.

"So you forgot an appointment," Leah shrugs as she helps herself to a bottle of water. "Everyone does that at least once in their life."

"But I've never forgotten something as important as a shoot!" Bella insists. "The husband was furious and the wife heartbroken."

"Well, I'd be pissed off, too. That sucked for them but things could have been worse."

"Yeah, like how?"

"I don't know. Your strobe light could have crashed into the set and electrocuted them."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Well yeah, that would have been worse."

"See, so their day wasn't so bad after all."

"You're crazy, Leah."

"And you aren't?" Leah scoffs. "Takes one to know one."

Bella can't help but smile before she takes a swig of water from her bottle.

"So why the hell haven't you called to get back on our workout regimen."

Bella grins. "I forgot?"

"Ha! Nice try Bella-boo. How about you're worn out from all the fun on your trip."

"Yeah…that's it!" Bella says, laughing.

"Well, that's great news about the fun, but we need to get back with it. The exercise will help your stress and clear your mind so your memory is sharp. I know you've got a late night with Edward's fundraiser tonight, so tomorrow morning may not be a good time to start. How about Saturday?"

"Sounds good," Bella agrees. "Hey, Leah? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What?"

"Why are you so good to me?"

"You mean since you're such a pain in the ass?"

"Yeah," Bella says, smiling.

"Okay, I'm only going to tell you this once so you better listen carefully. Are you listening?"

"Yes," Bella replies, grinning.

"I'm good to you because you may be crazy, but it's the best kind of crazy and you are one of the good people."

"Good people?" Bella asks.

"Hell yes. I know I'm tenacious, but I've had some really low times, Bella. Times you have no idea how close I was to giving up on everything…and who was it that picked me up and made me believe that things would be better?"

"But…" Bella protests.

"Don't interrupt me, woman. I'm on a roll. You have no idea, Bella. Remember when I was broke and going to pack it all up and head back to my bible thumping family in rural Georgia, where I had no life? Where I couldn't even live out of the closet."

"Oh, I remember. That would've been bad."

"And you gave me money, and let me stay with you and Jacob until I found more work and got back on my feet."

"It was fun having you here," Bella protests.

"You love me, Bella. You love me for just who I am…even when I'm a bitch."

"I do love you, truly."

"All of my best clients are because of you. And you convinced me that Maria was worth fighting for when I thought she was going to go back to her ex…and now look at us. And remember when you took care of me after my bike accident? Need I go on?"

"I guess I'm pretty great," Bella jokes.

"Hell yes. So don't ever think twice about calling me when you need help," Leah insists. "As a matter of fact, I'll be pissed if you don't."

"Yes, ma'am. I certainly don't want to piss you off," Bells says, laughing. "Can I give you a hug?"

"Oh, all right," Leah says.

They hold each other tightly for a long hug and Bella thinks of how grateful she is to have Leah in her life.

"Thank you, Leah," she whispers.

As they pull away, Leah looks at her, really looks at her, and nods. "I've got your back, baby. Don't you worry."

.

..~*~..

.

"Oh, you look so lovely Bella," Angela says admiringly.

"You think so?" Bella asks, as she slowly turns and shows off her outfit. "I wasn't sure what to wear. Do you think this is all right?"

"It's perfectly…Bella," Angela says, smiling. "I don't think you've ever looked prettier."

Bella reaches out and clasps her friend's hand. "Thank you, Angela. I'm nervous about tonight. Especially because Edward's ex is going to be there and she's trying to intimidate me."

"His ex? Why would she be there?"

"She's wiggled her way into the project by bringing in donors. It has become apparent that she intends to get Edward back."

"Oh no," Angela laments. "That's all you need."

"I know," Bella agrees. "But Edward's been pretty wonderful. He's reassured me every way he could."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." "I've always said that you're a great catch. And that man is smart enough to understand exactly how great you are."

"He's going to perform a song tonight, Angela…one that he wrote just for me."

"Really?" Angela asks. "Wow."

Bella snaps open her little purse to reveal it's stuffed with Kleenex. "I've come prepared. Just in case," she says, her cheeks pink with excitement.

"Smart planning," Angela agrees. "My guess is that it's swoony."

"Swoony?" Bella sighs. "Oh, wouldn't that be glorious! I hope you're right."

"And that will stop the ex in her tracks. Right? Seriously, who can try to fight for a man when he writes songs about the woman he's in love with?"

"Well, when you put it like that, I feel invincible," Bella says happily, as they link arms and head out to Bella's car.

.

The traffic's heavy so as she parks, Bella's grateful she allotted herself extra time to get them there.

"Has Carly said anything else about Jacob?" Bella asks as they get out of the car and head to the club's entrance with time to spare.

"Honestly, with the wedding so close I haven't seen her much. Being a maid of honor these days seems like a full time job. I've never seen anything like it…all the showers, and parties."

"Wow," says Bella. "I hope they're enjoying themselves. That sounds like a lot."

"Yes," Angela agrees. "And the wedding is a big, fancy affair. I guess her grandmother is wealthy and has paid for everything."

Before Bella can respond they pass through the front door and immediately spot Edward greeting people. Bella grins at the sight of him, so handsome in his suit jacket and tie over his best jeans. A moment later, he looks up and notices her as well. He excuses himself and moves toward her, until he's close enough to wrap his arms around her.

"You're here," he whispers, pulling her close.

"With bells on," she teases.

He steps back to take her in and his expression softens even more. "You look beautiful, baby." He then turns and smiles at Angela. "So good to see you again, Angela."

"Good to see you again, too," Angela says graciously. "And I hope you don't mind my saying that I'm not sure I would've recognized you."

"That's right," Bella says, marveling. "The last time you two met Edward was trying to recover from pneumonia."

Edward chuckles. "Wow, that seems like a lifetime ago."

"Well, congratulations on this accomplishment. I'd also say that according to how you look now and what Bella tells me, you're doing amazingly well."

"Thanks to Isabella," he says, taking her hand.

"Oh enough with that," Bella teases. "Besides, Alice is frantically trying to get your attention." She points to where Alice is waving for Edward to come over. "Go take care of things. We'll go get our seats."

"I didn't want to go backstage until I knew you were here," he says. "Oh, and I've got your seats saved up front. You can't miss them. So I'll see you after. You need to meet Sean, Julia, and the gang." He kisses Bella on the cheek and nods at Angela.

"Break a leg," Bella says happily before he steps away and slips into the crowd.

.

As Angela and Bella wind through the room they greet Rose, Emmett and their kids, Leah and Maria, and several of her friends from her women's group. She's also shocked to see Michael with a woman Bella doesn't recognize, standing off to the side.

As Bella and Angela approach them, Bella squeezes Michael's arm. "Hey, you! You didn't tell me you were coming tonight."

He shrugs. "We weren't sure if Nancy was going to be in town or not and I wanted to bring her. So it's kind of last minute." He gestures toward his date. "Nancy, these are friends of mine, Bella and Angela."

They exchange formalities and Nancy explains that she's an assistant principal of a middle school and is interested in this program. Angela and her engage in a conversation about school funding issues which allows Bella to speak to Michael separately.

"She's great," she says quietly. "How'd you meet?"

"Online," he admits, grinning sheepishly.

"Good for you," Bella says. "You look happy."

"So far so good," he says, just before Angela turns toward Bella. "Looks like they want us to take our seats," she says.

Before they part, Michael reminds her, "Hey, don't forget we're going over last quarter's numbers tomorrow after lunch."

"Okay, thanks for reminding me," Bella answers as they part.

.

After they find their seats, Bella scans the crowd until she spots Lauren. She's wearing a chic black dress and is shepherding a group of people that reek of money into their seats. They fill the second row just to the right of Bella and Angela.

Angela watches Bella and looks over as well. She leans in close to her friend, "_Is that her?"_ she whispers.

Bella nods. "How'd you know?"

Angela shrugs. "I had a feeling. You've painted a pretty vivid image in my mind of her." Angela grabs her friend's hand and squeezes it right as the lights dim. "She can't hold a candle to you, Bella."

Bella turns and grins at Angela. "Thank you," she mouths silently.

.

As it turns out, during the show, Bella pulls the Kleenex out of her purse sooner than expected. It's the earnestness of the young kids that makes her emotional; their nervousness as they step on stage, their passion as they perform, and finally, their pride when they're done and everyone's applauding. It's inspiring to Bella in the most profound way.

Edward is the main force behind the evening. He introduces the young performers, gives his speech telling the history of the center, and talks about his mom's passion to inspire kids with music. As he explains his plans for the center's future, he's lit from within, his eyes bright and full of excitement. Bella's so impressed by him and can't help but marvel that this beautiful man has become the center of her world.

The selection of music is contemporary and surprising for its unconventionality with classical instruments. The instrumental quartet plays _Beautiful Day_, by U2 and Peter Gabriel's, _In Your Eyes_. A beautiful Hispanic girl plays the piano adeptly and sings Coldplay's, _Viva la Vida_. She's followed by two young violinists who play John Legend's, _Everybody Knows_. With each performance, Bella can feel the energy and excitement in the room building. When Edward steps onstage alone at the end of the evening, holding his guitar, Bella's anticipation is high.

He settles into a seat on the stage and checks the tune of his guitar before addressing the crowd. "I used to tell my mom's students that there was no better way to express your emotions than through music. We've heard music and songs tonight of overcoming disappointment and loss to find happiness. We want our kids to embrace the world of music and know that with hard work and focus they can achieve their dreams for the future.

"So to wrap up the evening, I'd like to perform this song titled, _I'll Play for You_, a song about inspiration and finding love and hope again. I wrote for a very special someone in this audience." He smiles softly. "I hope you enjoy it."

The sound from his guitar is pure and soulful, his voice rich as he begins to sing.

_I'm in orbit round your sun  
Girl, you shine brighter than anyone  
I was broken 'till you cast your spell  
Now a phoenix rising that's lived to tell_

_Let's take it all on, this crazy life  
You can choose to live long, one day be my wife  
I'll hold your hand as we grow old  
My mermaid, my muse, you're silver and gold_

_I'll sing for you  
Fight for you  
Break down and cry for you  
Isabella,  
you're my now,  
be my ever_

_Play with me  
Stay with me  
Hearts beating, lay with me  
Isabella,  
I'll love you  
forever_

_We'll float in still waters, our spirits set free  
Azure nights that whisper of all we can be  
Dancing beneath a blanket of stars  
Just you, and me, and my guitar_

_Show me your colors, every shadow and hue  
Screaming chartreuse and the quietest blue  
I'll wrap you in words as I sing you to sleep  
We'll dive to the underworld into the deep_

_No matter what has to be  
Smile baby, just for me  
Cross your heart, promise me  
Isabella,  
You're my now,  
be my ever_

_Each day I'm with you  
Inspired I'll play for you  
Filling my heart, it's true  
Isabella,  
I'll love you  
forever_

Edward repeats the last stanza, so softly it's almost a whisper. He finally stills, his fingers quiet over the strings.

After he's finished there's a moment of silence as he leans into his guitar. When the applause starts, he squints, looking out into the audience for Isabella but she's lost in the haze of the stage lights. He has an overwhelming need to see her, to hold her.

By the time he stands, the applause is thunderous. Bella stands up with the others, tears streaming down her face, her hand pressed tightly over her heart.

_Edward._

She feels as though she has fallen with him into the softest feather bed, the warmth and comfort surrounding them. His song has made something ethereal tangible, as if he's wrapped words perfectly around their love.

She has a vague notion of Jasper stepping on stage to conclude the event and invite the audience to the reception in the bar area. Finally, Edward steps up to thank everyone for their support and attending this special evening.

As Bella watches him, she realizes how tonight he seems like he's from a different world than the one she first found him in. He's on his feet again, accomplishing things, and he's going to take his smarts and his energy and use it to make things better for kids who love music. She marvels at his noble intentions and falls in love with him all over again.

As the lights come on and people start to mumble and rise from their seats, Angela turns to her.

"Bella," she gasps, her eyes wide.

"I know, right?" Bella responds. "I can't believe it."

"He wrote that…for you!" she says.

"It's the most beautiful song, and he says I inspired it," Bella says happily. "Life will never get better than this moment. I swear, Angela; I'm satisfied. I could die tonight and it'd all be good."

"Well, no dying tonight. All right?" Angela jokes.

"Oh, okay. Bella teases back.

As they start to step out of their aisle, Bella notices Lauren, who is looking particularly subdued. Her mood is a contrast to her guests, who look positively inspired by the show. There is something about her long face, and black dress, that when paired with her demeanor makes her look like she's attending a funeral, not a celebration.

"Bella!"

Bella turns to see Rose, Emmett, and the kids approach and she introduces them to Angela. Rose takes Bella's hands excitedly. "Oh my God, what a night. And your song…didn't you love that? I can't believe Edward the Ogre could write something that romantic."

"The Ogre?" Bella repeats, laughing.

"Yeah, that's what we used to jokingly call him. He'd become so somber and moody that we'd tease him to get him to loosen up. But you've sure changed that."

Bella smiles at Rose. "Well, he's changed me, too."

Angela nods her head in agreement.

"He's a completely different person now," says Rose. "He would've never gotten up in a crowd like this and sang that song. I'm stunned really."

"Me too," admits Bella.

"You know, I'm so proud of him for getting the center open again. Mom would be incredibly proud of him, too. None of this was easy, but he's been inspired."

"And judging from the looks of things, a lot of other people are supportive of this idea as well," says Angela, pointing out the enthusiastic crowd.

Bella suddenly feels someone step up behind her and slide his hands down around her waist.

"Edward!" she exclaims. She turns and gives him an embrace. "I was about to go searching for you."

"Did you like your song?" he asks, smiling.

"I loved it," she says, cupping his chin in her hand. "It was the most beautiful song I've ever heard and you wrote it for me."

Edward gives her a warm smile and kiss before looking up and greeting the group.

.

The room is buzzing and Edward brings other people in and out of their circle, from the parents of the kids performing to the local councilman and educators who hope to support the program however they can. He's just finished saying goodnight to another supporter when Maria steps up to the group with Leah.

"Wow! I loved the show, Edward."

"Didn't your mural look great up on the screen?" he asks.

"It sure did." She gestures to her date. "Edward, I believe you've already met my girlfriend, Leah."

Edward smiles and nods his head and Leah smirks at him just to make Bella nervous. She gives Bella a sideways glance and then looks back at Edward. "Yes, we've met. Plus I get to hear a lot about Edward," she teases.

He laughs. "Hopefully only the good things," he replies.

"Be nice, Leah," Bella warns.

"Oh, I will. You know Bella, you never told me how handsome he is when he cleans up. He didn't look like this when we had dinner."

Edward turns to Bella. "You didn't tell her I was handsome?" He looks forlorn for a moment and then laughs.

"Oh, I told her." She turns to Leah. "Are you going to be good?"

Leah shrugs. "I guess so. By the way, great song, Edward. I take it you still kinda like our girl."

"Yeah, I kinda do," he replies, pulling Bella close to his side.

"I think she kinda likes you too," Leah says smiling.

.

People mingle and linger longer than expected. Sean and Julia have just finished introducing Bella to the young pianist when Emmett interrupts the group.

"Sorry, Edward, we're going to have to take off. The little natives are getting restless."

"No problem, Emmett. I understand."

"But before I go, I have that thing you wanted in my car."

Edward gives him a meaningful look and Emmett nods. Edward turns to Bella.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure," she says, smiling before hugging Rose and the kids goodbye.

.

.

A few minutes later Edward rejoins her. "Everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's all good," he answers.

"Edward Cullen?" A powerful voice calls out. Edward and Bella quickly turn around to see who's addressing him. Lauren is behind the distinguished looking older gentleman along with another women and two younger looking men.

"Yes?" Edward asks.

Lauren steps forward. "Edward, this is Jonathan Sanders of Sanders International. He's very interested in your plans for Esme's Place."

"Yes, and I'd like to talk to you about it more," he confirms with a firm nod. "I have some ideas I think you'll find very interesting."

Lauren gives Edward a look suggesting that he take this man very seriously.

"Well, thank you," Edward responds, shaking his hand. "I'd like to hear what your thoughts are."

"Good, good," the man says, satisfied. "We're heading over to my restaurant Fig and Olive for dinner. It's on Melrose Place right before Robertson Blvd. Join us. You'll be glad you did."

Edward pulls Bella close to his side. "Mr. Sanders, I'd like you to meet Isabella Swan. We actually have plans…"

"It's all right, Edward," Bella interrupts. "This is important."

Jonathan smiles at Bella. "Well then, it's settled. And of course you should join us, Isabella."

"Thank you," she responds politely.

When the group heads out, Edward turns to Bella. "Why did you agree that we would join them?"

"I've read about him, Edward. He's a big philanthropist. I don't think you want to pass up this opportunity."

"But…" he starts to argue.

"No buts," she says. "We have plenty of time to celebrate. I have to take Angela home first, so I'll meet you over there. Okay?"

He shakes his head. "We should go together. Why don't I drive Angela home, you go home, and I'll pick you up there. That way we'll be in one car."

Bella gives him a stern look.

"That will waste too much time. Go meet them. I will join you as soon as I can. Look, at least it's in a restaurant and not in Lauren's house like she said she wanted when she took the painting back from you."

"You're right about that, but you're so stubborn, woman."

"I know how hard you've worked, Edward. You've gone this far now…take it all the way."

He pulls her into his arms and hugs her, then nods and steps back. "Okay, boss."

"That's more like it," she teases. "I'll be there before you know it."

.

Bella and Angela say their farewells to Alice and Jasper, and then move toward the entrance. Right by the front door, Bella notices a collection of photographs on the wall. Some are of the original version of Esme's Place, and the others the new version that Edward has rebuilt. An obvious difference is that the old photos are full of students and teachers from the center over the years where the new ones are empty, a dream still waiting to be fulfilled.

Bella is drawn to one photograph in particular that appears to be from the last concert that Esme attended. She appears very frail as she smiles weakly from her wheelchair. Bella sees what she's sure is fear in her eyes, while Carlisle looks over adoringly at her. Edward stands on her other side, his hand on her shoulder as if he's trying to bolster her.

In the photo, Rose stands apart with her arms folded and her expression full of worry, as if she isn't convinced that they should be there. Even Bella can see that in the photo Esme looks too fragile to be putting on such a big evening. Something about the photograph takes Bella's breath away as she tries to figure out why the image disturbs her so much.

Bella and Angela are silent as they walk through the dark parking lot to her car.

"Are you okay?" Angela asks as she opens her door and they slide inside.

"Yeah," Bella responds. "Can I ask you something? And I want an honest answer."

"All right," Angela responds.

"Do you think I'm good for Edward? Not just now, but long term?"

"What kind of question is that?" Angela asks, exasperated. "Oh course you are. Why?"

"What if I'm not his future destiny, Angela? What if my point was to get him here, to this point, so that he's ready to take off?"

"What in the world are you talking about? Stop it," Angela insists.

"I mean it," Bella continues. "What if I end up a burden?"

"Bella?" she asks. "What brought this on?"

"Maybe seeing those photos of Esme at the end, and thinking about my mom."

Angela lets out a deep sigh. "You need to stop projecting your stuff on everyone else. After a night like tonight, where this man has essentially told the world that he's given you his heart, you need to make a decision to let go of your fears, and I mean it."

Bella leans forward and rests her head on the steering wheel, the car keys still resting on her lap.

"I don't mean to be hard on you, Bella," Angela says with a softer voice.

"I know," Bella whispers. "Sometimes my spirit is so strong and I know I can conquer anything. Those days I feel this energy surging through me. It's like a life force helping me conquer life's challenges and take in every precious moment. But then other times…"

"…yes, those damn other times," Angela says. "You see, even you have your dark moments, my friend."

"Yes, I do," Bella agrees.

"I understand, but you need to face that darkness and work it out without dragging Edward and Jacob down into the darkness with you."

Bella gasps. "Oh, Angela."

"Edward has made it clear what he wants, Bella. Even with an uncertain future, he's made a commitment to you two hundred percent."

"I know, I know," Bella says.

"Are you going to be there for him too, no matter what happens? You need to make a decision, Bella, one way or another. Can you make the decision to live a long life without back-stepping every time something makes you scared about what your future holds?"

Bella's hands grip the steering wheel hard as fear waves through her.

"Can you do that?" Angela asks, turning to her friend. "Can you let your fears go?"

Bella shakes her head. "I have to Angela…not just for Edward, but for myself, too. I can't live in limbo any more."

.

.

* * *

_Thanks so much for taking a moment to review...  
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	31. Chapter 31 Cherry Pie

_Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn._

_Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

.

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirty-One / Cherry Pie**

.

When Edward enters the Fig and Olive restaurant, the hostess immediately leads him into the posh dining room and straight to the center table where Jonathan's holding court. When he sees Edward he waves him over and indicates that he should sit next to him where two seats have been held open. He also notices that Lauren is next to Jonathan, directly across from where he will sit.

"Excellent. You're here, Edward," Jonathan says. "Now where's your Isabella?"

Edward settles down into his chair. "She's on her way. She'll join us shortly."

Sparkling water and an array of appetizers appear at the table while Jonathan asks Edward questions about his mother's early days starting up the music center. He goes on to explain his interest to Edward.

"You see, your mother's passion for kids and music reminded me so much of my late wife, Marissa. She was an accomplished violinist and had an enormous passion for music. She did a lot of work with the Los Angeles Music Center's various programs for children. I always keep an eye out for philanthropies to support in her name that she would've cared about."

"That's wonderful for you to carry on her legacy," Edward responds.

"So when I approached Jonathan about _Esme's Place_, he was naturally very interested," Lauren adds in.

"I'm so glad," Edward says, addressing Jonathan. "You may be interested to know that Sean Odell, my lead teacher, won the Music Center's BRAVO award for excellence in music education. He had developed a great program in an inner-city school."

"Impressive," Jonathan responds, swirling the wine the steward has poured in his glass, before tasting it. He nods to the steward.

"But as I'm sure you know, Mr. Sanders, the public school programs are all being cut and music is always one of the first programs to go. My mom didn't believe in fighting the L.A Unified Schools and the tax system. She just believed in doing it better."

"My kind of woman," Jonathan says, pressing his hand on the table-top before lifting his glass. "To Esme!"

"To Esme," everyone repeats.

"And call me Jonathan, Edward," he says with a smile. "I think we can do some good work together."

Edward nods, while noticing Lauren as she nods and smiles brightly at Jonathan.

.

..~*~..

.

Frustrated, Bella slaps her dashboard while she waits at the red light. "Melrose and La Cienega, he said Melrose and La Cienega," she repeats out loud to herself before circling back slowly. As she drives down Melrose she studies the signs and calls them out as she passes each restaurant, "Ago, Lucques, Comme Ca…where's the damn Olive!"

She finds an empty parking space, pulls over, and parks so that she can call information for the exact address.

"Hi, I'm looking for Olive and Fig on Melrose Avenue. It's a restaurant." She taps her fingers waiting for the number.

"I have no listing for Olive and Fig," the operator says dryly before disconnecting.

"Of course you don't," Bella says to the dial tone, a flailing edge to her voice before slamming her phone down on the seat next to her.

Did she get the name wrong? She knows she should just call Edward, but her pride stops her. I mean, how in the hell can you mess up a name such as Olive and Fig? She also knows that he'll worry if he thinks she's can't figure out something so simple.

She calls her friend instead.

"Hey Angela, you didn't happen to overhear the name of that restaurant that I'm supposed to meet Edward and the others at, did you?"

"Sorry, Bella, I didn't. Shouldn't you be there by now?"

Bella sighs. "Yes, but I can't seem to find it. I called information, and I must've remembered the name wrong since they didn't have a listing."

"Well, why don't you just call Edward?" Angela asks, confused.

"I didn't want to bother him. He's already worried about me, but you're right…I'll do that. Thanks anyway." Bella closes her eyes with the shame of guilt because she knows she isn't going to call Edward.

"Sure, Bella. Have fun."

As soon as she hangs up, she feels the cold creep of panic start crawling up her spine. She fights an overwhelming desire to abandon her car and start roaming the streets on foot. How could she already have forgotten the name of the restaurant? What is happening to her?

The longer she sits and stews, the worse she feels. When her text prompt goes off she realizes that she actually feels dizzy. She finally focuses on the screen and sees it's a text from Edward. Her stomach churns as she reads it.

_Where are you? I'm getting really worried. Is everything okay?_

Bella holds the phone in her hands for a minute and tries to think of what to say.

_I'm sorry-I'm heading over, but I'm not feeling good all of a sudden. _

_What's wrong?_

_I'm not sure. But I think I need to get home and go to bed. _

_Where are you? I'll come get you._

_No! Please stay and talk to Mr. Moneybags. Please._

_Isabella…_

_Please. I will only feel worse if you leave. Please tell them that I'm sorry I missed the dinner._

She waits a minute for him to respond.

_All right, things are looking really promising, but I'm coming to check on you as soon as we're done here._

_Thanks, handsome…and good luck. I hope he gives Esme's Place lots of support. _

.

..~*~..

.

Edward slips his phone back in his jacket, just as Jonathan returns to the table from the restroom. The older man recognizes the look of concern on Edward's face.

"Everything okay?" he asks Edward.

"Oh, it's Isabella. She's not feeling well, so she sends her apologies but she won't be joining us."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jonathan says.

"That's too bad," Lauren says. Edward looks over at her suspiciously.

"If you need to go, I'll understand," Jonathan says with more compassion than Edward would expect.

"Honestly, I wanted to, but Isabella insists that I stay. She's the one who inspired me to reopen the center," Edward shares. "She supports whatever it's going to take for me to make a go of it."

"Good woman," Jonathan says kindly. "I've always attributed much of my success to my dear Marissa," he says.

"She sounds like a good woman too," Edward says.

"The best," Jonathan agrees as he smiles warmly.

.

..~*~..

.

By the time Bella walks through her front door, her hands are shaking. She considers calling Leah again, but thinks twice about it. All she needs is Leah concerned about her too.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she says aloud over and over. "I'm just overwhelmed. It's been such a crazy few weeks."

She heads into the kitchen where Edward's balloons are floating along the ceiling as they trail all the way to the family room. She pours herself a glass of wine from the open bottle in the fridge and heads to the backyard.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she chants as she paces across the grass. "I just need to calm down."

Finally, she settles down a little and decides to light the fire pit and take a seat on the swing. As she sips her wine she gazes at the flickering fire intently, letting her emotions run free. She thinks about driving up and down Melrose Avenue searching for a phantom restaurant, while her love patiently waited for her. As much as she regrets not meeting him, it would've been horrible to show up upset and unhinged to such an important meeting.

Then with a full heart, she remembers the lyrics to Edward's song…

_Let's take it all on, this crazy life_

_You can chose to live long and be my wife_

_I'll hold your hand as we grow old…_

But then…

_No matter what has to be_

_Smile baby, just for me_

The words haunt her. They seem prophetic, as if they know her future and the quiet, noble way he accepts it. She tries to hold onto all of the encouragement Angela had inspired her with earlier, but it isn't easy.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she explains softly to the dancing flames.

She pictures her mother, her bright light extinguished from the hellish disease…her eyes vacant as Bella stroked her cheek.

"You're all right, you're all right," she used to softly chant to her.

If only it were so.

She drinks her wine and remembers it all as if it were yesterday.

.

..~*~..

.

No check is brought to the table as they start to say their goodbyes and Edward wonders what it must be like to own such a restaurant, to have such financial means at your fingertips. Yet then Edward is reminded of the ugly truth…money doesn't buy everything. This man Jonathan has enormous wealth but even then he was not able to save his adored wife.

He turns to his host. "Thank you, Jonathan, for coming to our fundraiser, for dinner and the chance to discuss the future of Esme's Place."

Jonathan shakes his hand. "I like you, Edward, and I like your project. I want to talk to my people, but I assure you we will be meeting again."

Lauren smiles, knowing that their meeting has been a success.

"I'll look forward to it," Edward says.

By the time he gets to the valet stand, he realizes that Lauren is right behind him.

He turns back to look at her.

"Thank you," he says simply. "He's a great guy and seems genuinely interested in helping us."

"Oh, believe me," Lauren says. "He's more than interested. I had a feeling it could go well, but congratulations, Edward. You made a powerful impression on him."

"Really?" he asks. "Well, that's great. And thanks for getting him interested in the first place."

"You're welcome," she answers as she studies him. She can tell the wine has loosened him up. She senses an opportunity.

"Hey, I know you're anxious to get home, but can we just sit and talk for a bit? I feel really awful about what happened last night."

"Ah, no thanks, Lauren. I'm really not up for more of that conversation."

"I promise it won't be like last night," she assures him. "That was a horrible mistake. There are some things I really need to say to you and it would mean a lot to me if I could have the chance."

Edward studies his ex, and for the first time in a long time, he sees vulnerability in her expression. He can't help but feel curious as to what has changed her demeanor so much-especially after their nasty argument. Although it defies logic, he has a sudden strong gut feeling that he could get her to agree to the divorce.

"I need to check on Isabella," he says.

"But you said she wasn't well. She's probably asleep by now. Why don't you call and see. Really, what is another thirty minutes or so? You know that our place, well…my place is just ten minutes from here."

Edward thinks about Bella waiting at home, and wonders if indeed she's in bed. He thinks about their argument yesterday morning about the divorce stalling, and the papers Emmett left him sitting in the back seat of his car. He thinks about how much of his future doesn't feel open as long as he's tethered to his marriage. He'd already planned to contact Lauren about the divorce in the next day or so, but maybe now is the time.

He looks at Lauren, her eyes bright and strangely kind, her smile reminiscent of earlier times. She heard the song he sang for Isabella and all that implies. Maybe she will finally see reason.

The valet pulls up with her car, but she hesitates, waiting for his decision.

His words come out of his mouth without thought. "Go home, and let me call Isabella. I'll let you know if I can come."

Lauren hesitates, but knowing not to push it, she agrees and steps forward to retrieve her car. "Okay, hopefully I'll see you there."

When Edward's car arrives, he tips the valet and slips inside, then dials Isabella.

.

.

"You're up," he says softly when she answers her phone.

"Yeah," she says.

"How are you feeling?"

"Still kind of shaky. What's happening there?"

"We just finished," Edward says, then hesitates.

"What?" Bella asks.

"Lauren wants to talk to me," he says.

"Really? About what?"

"I'm not really sure, but Isabella, she's remorseful about last night and I sense an opportunity to set her straight about our future."

"I'm thinking she'd probably say the same. She doesn't seem the type to back down," she says with a tired voice. "She's probably still thinking about her future with you."

"Come on. We both know that's not going to happen. I've never been so clear about anything. She knows how I feel about you. She heard your song tonight."

"So what do you want to do, Edward?" Bella asks.

"I'd like a chance to finish things up with her…have the talk that has stalled our divorce. Emmett gave me the paperwork tonight."

"Are you sure? Wouldn't you rather just come home?"

"Of course I would. But then I won't be any closer to being divorced than I was when you got mad yesterday morning."

"Hmmm. True, and you seem very anxious to get it done."

"I am. So what do you think?" he asks.

Bella takes a deep breath and pushes her fear out of her head. "Go talk to her. We all need a resolution. If you think that can happen tonight, then go. Hopefully the talk will end with at least one of you getting what you want. As long as you really, truly know what you want."

"Isabella, I know what I want. How can you say that? Didn't you listen to your song tonight?

Bella pauses.

"Didn't you?" he repeats, getting frustrated.

"Listen to it? Every single moment for the rest of my life I will think of my song, Edward. I will hold it in my heart and hear the lyrics just as surely as my heart beats."

"Okay. That's more like it. So we have an understanding, then?"

"Yes. Go settle things with Lauren, and then tomorrow will be our brand new beautiful day."

"You promise?" he asks.

"Cross my heart," she says, closing her eyes before saying her final goodbye.

.

..~*~..

.

By the time Edward gets to Lauren's, she's changed into jeans and a sweater. She offers him a glass of wine as he settles on the living room couch. It's unnerving to be back as a stranger in this place that used to be his home. He sets his jacket down with Emmett's envelope just underneath.

She starts the conversation by explaining how she met Jonathan and realized the potential for him to have a major impact on the Esme's Place project. When she takes a break to pour herself more wine, Edward looks at his watch. Fifteen minutes have passed and they haven't gotten anywhere.

He thinks about Bella lying in their bed and he decides to go for broke.

"So, Lauren, about our divorce."

Her gaze snaps to his. "What about our divorce?"

"I want to finish it, but I'm told there are still things you want to talk about."

"Yes, that's true," she agrees.

"Okay then, what do you want to talk about?"

He watches her pour more wine into his glass as she considers what to say.

"I know you're anxious to wrap things up, Edward."

"Yes," he agrees.

"But the thing is…" she starts finally. "I'd like more time."

"But why?"

She settles back into the couch and gives him a long look. "Because I don't believe our time is over."

He feels his face flush with fury, but she holds up her hand.

"Don't get upset. I know you're done and have moved on…" she says.

"Have you forgotten that you moved on first?" he asks angrily.

"I didn't move on," she corrects him. "I reached out for attention when you didn't have it to give. And I made a grave mistake I'm hoping to have a chance to correct."

"Well, I've moved on and I'm in love with Isabella, Lauren. Deeply in love."

She sighs. "Yes, I can see that. And it's all so lovely when life is easy and you can go off to Europe and not worry about getting through each day. But what happens to you two when real life gets ugly?

"We will help each other through it."

"Will you? It's not always that simple, is it? Remember we had a lot of good years, Edward. Or have you forgotten that?"

He tips his head, the discomfort creeping up his spine. "I haven't forgotten," he says softly.

"I was a needy fool and have a lot to make up for. I realize that I need to be patient, Edward. I just have a feeling about your girlfriend. I suspect she isn't as solid as you think."

"Don't say anything about Isabella. You don't know shit about her, Lauren."

"Maybe not. But how long have you known her, Edward? How long have you known me?"

"I've know her long enough. She's the real deal. I know that."

"I hope you're right because I've heard she's all over the place. I sense that one day she's not going to be there for you like you expect, and you know what? You'll realize that there's no magic ticket, no perfect relationship. "

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice edged with sarcasm.

"Yes, it is," Lauren replies confidently.

"Well, we will just have to see, won't we? Besides, what you need to understand is that this isn't about me choosing you or Isabella. This divorce is about the fact that I don't want to be married to you anymore."

She's still for a moment and then takes a sip of wine before turning to him with a defiant look in her eyes.

"I don't want a divorce. I'm going to wait for you, Edward."

"Don't say that, Lauren. Just don't."

.

..~*~..

.

Bella stirs and opens her eyes, then blinks over and over to make sure she isn't hallucinating. Considering how surreal everything seems, she's surprised how calm she feels.

The swing cushion is scratchy against her bare legs and the night air cooler than she remembers when she first sat by the fire. The moonlight's so bright she sees details in the yard she normally wouldn't. She turns and slowly takes in the woman that has now miraculously joined her on the swing.

Her mother straightens her legs out and smoothes her skirt over her thighs as she looks off into the distance. "You know Bella, I really was surprised you took out the plum tree."

Bella sits up as she rubs her eyes. She's compelled to answer this anomaly that appears to be her mom with astounding clarity. She takes a deep breath as her heart flutters. Renee calmly looks over at her and smiles.

"But it died," Bella answers, as it were just another conversation with her mother.

Renee chuckles. "Actually, it wasn't dead. It just was dormant…took a year off. That happens sometimes you know."

Bella worries that she took a tree down before it's time, but then another thought occurs to her.

"So are you dormant? Is that why you're suddenly here?" Bella asks.

"Nope, I'm dead," Renee answers with excruciating simplicity.

"Then why are you here?" Bella asks, feeling hopeful.

"Oh, I'm always around," answers Renee. "But I thought it would be lovely to have a chat. It's been a while, sweet girl."

Bella feels a curl of warmth wrap around her heart. Her momma often referred to her as 'sweet girl'.

"I'd love to chat, Momma," Bella answers. "It's been a long while since we could."

"Yes," Rene agrees. "Damn disease. I couldn't do anything but babble at the end. How frustrating. Guess I'd used up all my talking in that life of mine," Renee says, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"I've missed you, Momma," Bella says.

"I know, baby girl. I know," her mom says in a soothing voice.

"Are you happy?" Bella asks.

Renee smiles wide, her expression beatific. "It's like cherry pie at every meal, Bella."

Bella's eyes light up remembering how much her mom loved cherry pie.

"Oh, that's good," Bella says happily. "I'd like that."

"Yes, but it's not your time yet, sweet girl. Is it?"

Renee gives her a look and an image appears in her mind. "Edward?" she asks.

"Oh, he's a fine one, he is," Renee says, chuckling. "He's finally finding his legs. Just wait, Bella. Just wait."

Her mom winks at her and smiles, and Bella is filled with the most incredible warmth as if the sun's in her belly burning bright.

Renee gracefully lifts herself off the swing and takes a few steps forward. Her image is a bit less clear and Bella blinks as her mom points to the nearby planters.

"I loved those poppies that you and Edward planted, Bella."

Bella looks over, surprised to know her mom was aware of such a small detail of her life.

"Keep turning your soil, nurturing and watering, sweet girl, and then you'll always have color." Her mom shakes her head and smiles. "Yes, indeed, such color."

"Okay, Momma. We will," Bella answers as Renee gives her one last peaceful look then walks just past the pool and fades away.

.

..~*~..

.

Edward sits in his car numbly, trying to gather the strength to push the key into the ignition.

He picks up the manila envelope once more and carefully slides out the papers, then slowly runs his fingers over the sections where he and Lauren have each signed their names. Satisfied, he slides the papers back inside and folds the envelope's clasp closed.

Exhausted, he marvels at the journey this night has taken him on. After the small talk, their discussion started out rough with another round of angry accusations before they calmed down enough to hash through things. It feels like he just spent a lifetime with Lauren, recounting and debating the ups and downs of their marriage. Everything from their exuberant late night runs for fish tacos to the time Edward lost their property tax payment resulting in a fight so dramatic that Lauren threw a vase at him.

They even laughed remembering when she found his hidden stash of graham crackers, and the time he threw the scale away because she had gotten so obsessive about her weight, resulting in his being forced to take an angry trip to Target to buy a new scale.

As the minutes turned to an hour then longer, and their bitter-edged moods softened with the wine, the good and the bad was laid before them like a collage of their life together. They lived a life where the good outweighed the bad and Edward acknowledged that. Yet the indisputable truth was that the fork in their road: his parent's deaths, her affair and their separation, changed him and how he sees his future profoundly.

The night ended with her sobbing tucked under his arm, and when she'd calmed, she looked up at him and finally became aware that he had forgiven her and could be kind to her, but she also understood that he was completely done. In sensing the quiet of his heart, she realized that there was no going back, only moving forward, each down their separate paths.

He silently pulled out the documents and she signed them without another word said.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella wakes with a start, and sits up suddenly, causing the swing to start its graceful gate.

"Momma," Bella whispers, her eyes frantically scanning the yard, desperately hoping for a sign of her.

_It was a dream._ Bella sighs and rubs her eyes. Just a dream…_but it was so real._

She looks down at her abandoned wine glass and shivers as she realizes the swing cushions are damp from the morning dew. The early light is just creeping over the horizon and Bella wonders how she managed to sleep so long outside.

She rises off the swing, turns off the fire pit, and slowly walks towards the house, trying to shake the feeling that she's still in a dream. Every movement is slow and measured. Once in the house she starts up the coffeemaker, ignoring the dozens of balloons that are in various states of freefall all around her kitchen.

She carefully sets herself up on her couch, wrapped in blankets, her laptop in one hand, her mug of coffee in the other. She opens her Mac and iPhoto, then moves the curser along the sidebar until she is at the first images in her photo files.

As she slowly sips her coffee and warms up, she studies each photo one at a time. The first group are images from her twenties, prints that she scanned to store in her digital archives for safekeeping: Jacob as a chubby cheeked baby, crawling across her mother's worn Asian rug, his first Easter, posed on her lap with Bella wearing fuzzy rabbit ears and laughing. Bella shakes her head as she moves from one image to another. It was yesterday and yet a lifetime ago.

Several hours pass, as Bella scans the years captured in photos: Jacob on Halloween, dressed like Pikachu holding his grandma's hand, Bella in her photo studio, proud as a peacock the day she had her first paying client. She smiles, remembering.

She's almost done with her second mug of coffee and the sun is pouring through the windows when she gets to the pictures of her and Edward in Lucca. She stares for a long time at the photo of Edward in the field. Not the sexy one, with his eyes on fire, but the one where he's laughing and trying to wrestle the camera out of her grasp.

_His eyes blue and bright, his smile…my god, his smile!_

Bella smiles with him as she falls in love all over again. When she gets to the end of the photos she closes her laptop and sets down her coffee. It only takes a moment for her to work out her plan of action in her head, each step crystal clear and perfectly defined. She's never felt more certain of every step in front of her.

She takes a long, hot shower and slowly dresses in a pressed white shirt and navy skirt. She brushes her hair back into a neat ponytail. Back in the kitchen, she opens the middle desk drawer and pulls out her formal stationary, long buried under boxes of greeting cards. She takes out two sheets and two envelopes and proceeds to hand-write her thoughts on each before sealing them up in separate envelopes. On one she writes, Jacob, the other Edward.

She glances at her watch and stands up, gathers up her bank information and purse, and heads out the door.

.

Less that an hour later, Bella returns home. She methodically changes out of her bank outfit into a swimsuit and cover-up and lets down her hair. Before she heads out again, she makes a stop in the living room where she slowly pulls an envelope out of her purse.

Due to her shaky hands she has to strike the match three times for it to catch fire. She pulls back the screen then holds the flame under the envelope's corner until it finally starts to burn.

When the rectangle is fully immersed in flames she takes a deep breath and steps back.

_No regrets,_ she says to herself as she pulls herself up to stand tall.

She moves to the door without looking back. With nothing but a bottle of pills in one hand, her car keys in the other and the relief of her decision made, she's never felt lighter.

.

..~*~..

.

Edward wakes with a start. He remembers entering his loft in the middle of the night, setting down the envelope and collapsing on his couch while trying to summon the strength to change into more comfortable clothes and head over to Bella's. Instead, he must've fallen asleep.

He rubs his eyes and looks at his watch. _Damn, it's past nine o'clock_. He notices the morning sun already moving across the big painting on the opposite wall. He thinks about calling Bella, but wonders if it would be better if he just shows up on her doorstep with his positive news. They had left their plans for today pretty loose anyway.

He starts up the coffeemaker and then takes a shower, washing away some of the exhaustion from the emotional talk with Lauren just hours before. By the time he pulls on his jeans and T-shirt, he's anxious to get to Bella. He finishes off some coffee, grabs his keys and Emmett's envelope, and hits the road.

.

When Edward pulls up to Bella's house he's disappointed not to see her car in the driveway. _Did she run an errand?_ Before getting out of his car he tries to call her, but it goes directly to voicemail and he hangs up. He decides to use his spare key to let himself in and wait for her.

The house feels weirdly hollow without her and it unsettles Edward. He heads into the kitchen to get some water, but the minute he steps inside the bright room he stops, and looks around warily taking in every detail. Balloons of every color float in a kind of shriveled half-mast all through the kitchen and family room. Even their sagging ribbons look sad. He imagines a clown's funeral or a failed birthday party has taken place, but then he notices a banner taped to the nearby wall. The first letters printed on shiny mylar are CONGRA but the rest is unreadable as the right half of the banner has come loose from it's tape. He lifts the fallen corner and reads the covered letters. CONGRATULATIONS! He lets out a long sigh before letting go of the plastic edge.

He turns and notices the bottle of Chianti set out with two glasses, the jar of Nutella, and bowl of strawberries. His heart sinks. She had put this celebration together for him. Why didn't she insist he come over? If he'd only known…

He thinks for a moment and then picks up his phone and calls Angela. It takes a minute for her receptionist to put her through.

"Hi, Angela. I'm sorry to bother you at work but I'm wondering if you've heard from Isabella. I'm worried because she didn't feel well last night?"

"But I thought she was with you," Angela responds.

"No, we didn't end up getting together last night. So you haven't spoken to her?"

"Well, she called me when she got confused and couldn't find the restaurant last night, but she told me that she was going to call you to get the directions."

"Wait a minute …she couldn't find the restaurant? She told me that she wasn't feeling well and wanted to go home. Did she say anything at all to you about not feeling well? Feeling dizzy?" Edward asks.

Angela's concern is evident in her voice. "Dizzy? No. She said she was dizzy? That concerns me. Now that you mention it she was in a very strange mood when we left the fundraiser."

"Strange how?"

"First let me ask something. Did Bella tell you she forgot a client's shoot yesterday? Leah told me that she had to go by the house to calm Bella down."

"Damn! No she didn't tell me. She knew I was busy getting ready and probably didn't want to bother me. I wish she'd told me," Edward says, frustrated.

"Well, I don't want to worry you, Edward. But she was very gloom and doom about her future at the end of the evening last night. It was very strange to me since she was so moved by the song you wrote her."

Edward's mouth suddenly feels very dry. "Gloom and doom about her future? Damn, where is she?" he says.

"Maybe she's working out with Leah, or she just ran out to the store. Please don't worry. I'm sure she's fine now," Angela says, trying to calm him. "It's just been an intense few days."

Edward doesn't respond, his mind reeling.

"Hey, will you call me when you find her and let me know she's okay," Angela asks with an unsteady voice, making Edward panic even more.

"I will. Thanks, Angela," Edward says before hanging up.

.

He looks out the window. "Isabella, baby. Where the hell are you?" he asks.

He lifts his phone up and dials her again. But this time as the call rings he can hear it ring, only an echo away from his phone. He approaches her kitchen desk searching for her phone but it isn't there. Instead, just before the phone goes to voicemail, he notices two sealed letters on the desk, one for him and one for Jacob. He sweeps them up and clutches them in his hand as he presses her number again with trembling fingers. It's clear that her phone must still be somewhere in the house. He nervously follows the sound of the ring into the living room.

He's startled when he realizes her purse has been left on the chair right next to the fireplace, her ringing phone perched on the wide arm. Right before his call goes to voicemail again, he looks down at the screen and sees his picture flash before the phone stops ringing and the screen goes dark. Where would she go without her purse and phone?

He takes a deep nervous breath, and before he can exhale, he picks up on a trace of smoke in the back of his throat. He looks down towards the smell's origin and notices that the fireplace screen has been shifted back. He peers onto the grate and sees a pile of ashes surrounding what looks like the corner of an envelope. Yanking back the fireplace screen completely, he drops the letters addressed to him and Jacob to the floor before lifting the burnt remnant between his fingers. It's so consumed that he can't identify its origins. His muscles feel like jelly as he slowly drops the charred fragment back into the fireplace and starts to straighten.

What would she have burned before leaving her house without a word to anyone?

It hits him like a wall of fire, and he reaches up and searches her mantle, frantically pushing the knick knacks and vases across the polished surface, some of them careening to the floor.

_Where is it? Where the fuck is it?_ He gasps, his heart thundering. He moves from one side of the mantle to the other three times before he slams his fists against the elaborate molding and yells out, "Isabella!"

His mind spins, a frantic chaos. He remembers the night he discovered the bottle of pills and her assurance that she would swim off into the horizon like a tragic mermaid, never to resurface again. What if this letter held news that was unbearable to her?

He bends over and gasps for air.

What if she is at the beach right now? What if she took the pills and is walking into the surf without looking back? Can he save her in time if she did? The ocean is so cold and vast; would it take his Isabella from him?

For a moment he's almost blinded by fear. After all they've been through how could he possibly live without her?

.

"No!" he roars as he charges out of her house and sprints down her driveway. The only thing he can think about is getting to her in time.

He barrels into his car, fires the ignition and guns his car down her street, tearing around the corner headed for the Ten freeway.

"Don't you leave me, Isabella!" he yells out, over and over as he drives, slamming his fist on the steering wheel.

His eyes nervously glance at his car's clock before looking back out the windshield as he frantically maneuvers around the cars in his way. Meanwhile, one thought keeps haunting his desperate mind.

When you're so full of life, how much time does it take to die?

.

.

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abbie_

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	32. Chapter 32 Step to Forever

_Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn._

_Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy_

* * *

_.  
_

**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirty-Two / Step to Forever**

.

Bella sits on the shore, running her right hand back and forth over the sand, clutching her bottle of pills with her left. She gazes up over the horizon as the sun warms her, reflecting on the extraordinary journey that's brought her here.

She thinks of the words she wrote to Jacob earlier, telling him how proud she is of him and how excited she is to see what his future will be. She may not have been the perfect mother, but she has loved him with her whole heart. Hopefully one day he will come to understand the motivations and decisions that she made, even if he doesn't agree with them.

As for Edward, she imagines that their powerful love will span lifetimes beyond this one. He has completely given her his heart and she knows he deserves the same. They are joined now and forever.

She closes her eyes, says a silent prayer, and gives thanks for the wonder of her life. She says a prayer for her future…that she will be brave no matter what she has to face.

She stands up, pulls off her cover-up, and drops it to the sand before taking her first step to forever.

.

..~*~..

.

When the 10 Freeway merges into the 405, the traffic slows to a crawl and Edward lets his inner rage loose. "Mother fucking freeway!" he yells to no one in particular. He aggressively works his way over to the carpool lane and illegally cuts into it, breaking every law as he does it. He immediately knows that if a cop tries to pull him over, he's going to just keep going, so he hopes to hell that doesn't happen.

Once the traffic passes the airport mess the speed picks up again, and he floors the gas until he's going near ninety. He gets to Hermosa Beach in record time and as he pulls off the freeway he frantically tries to remember where the Green Store's street is since that's where Bella always parks. He's only been there at night and everything looks so different in the daytime.

He gets all the way to the pier before he realizes that he must've missed the street, so he quickly circles back. From this new direction he spots the store easily and makes a sharp right turn onto the little side street. There's an empty spot two spaces behind where Bella's parked. He pulls into the space and jumps out of the car without putting change in the meter.

It's comforting and horrifying to him to see her car parked there. For one, he knows his instincts were right that she's there, but on the other hand, she could already be…

His mind shuts down as he starts to run toward the sand.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella steps into the swirling tide, the cold water shocking against her warm skin. She gasps with every step deeper into the water. However, by the time she's in up to her waist, she starts to feel acclimated and ready to take the plunge. She wraps her fingers tightly around the bottle of pills and dives under, taking longer, slow strokes as she moves further and further from the shore.

When she surfaces, she looks up into the bright sky and feels content, she knows she's exactly where she should be. She glides effortlessly, close to the water's surface. It's as if she could swim forever. When she stops and finally looks back to the shore, she realizes that she's gone far enough. It's time.

Treading water, she unscrews the cap to the bottle, takes a deep breath, and shakes the contents free into the water. She watches the pills float away like little pearls off to find their oysters.

She only has a brief moment of regret where she wants to scoop them back up, but then she thinks of Edward and Jacob and feels at peace again. Once the pills have all drifted out of her reach from the gentle movement of the water, she rocks her legs forward and relaxes until she's floating on the surface. She closes her eyes and peacefully becomes one with the ocean.

.

..~*~..

.

As Edward sprints across the sand, he tries to form a plan of action. If the lifeguard's on duty he'll alert them before he goes after her. Meanwhile, he scans the sand from the distance looking for any sign of Bella. As each step draws him closer, his heart sinks to see the deserted shoreline. Even the ocean before him is empty but for two teenage boys with boogie boards far to his left. Where can she be?

He's breathless by the time he gets to the waterfront, and he bends forward trying to catch his breath as he continues to study the water. Nothing. Looking back over his shoulder, he decides to check out the lifeguard stand and hurries up the plank. By the time he's on deck, he can see that the station is empty despite the window guards being open. He slaps his hand on the locked door and spins around to face the ocean again.

With the advantage of the higher angle this time as he squints, he sees something off in the distance. Once he shadows his eyes with his hand the shape takes form…a body floating on the water.

"Isabella," he gasps, horrific panic overcoming him. In a swift move, he grabs the lifeguard's bright-red rescue can by the handle and drops his phone and car keys in front of the station's door. He runs down the plank straight into the ocean, clothes and all.

He's too numb to think about anything but getting to her. Despite being hindered by heavy, wet clothes, each desperate stroke cuts through the water like a knife as the floating rescue can trails just behind him. He's never been so grateful for his years of swimming and lifeguard training.

He's far from the shore when he stops for a moment to check his position in the water and confirm he's on track, he prays he's not too late as he surges forward again. When he's forty or so feet from the body, he loses his form and falls into a sloppy breaststroke with his head above the water's surface. At last he's close enough to confirm it's her. Her eyes are closed and she looks positively serene as she slowly rocks with the water.

"Isabella!" he cries out, hoping for a response that tells him he isn't too late. He feels like his heart's going to explode out of his chest when she doesn't respond.

Finally when he's only several lengths away, he cries out again and she opens her eyes and looks in his direction. She's so surprised that she flails and sinks into the water.

"Isabella!" he yells. "I've got you, I've got you!"

With several more powerful strokes, he finally reaches her and pulls her up into his arms, only to have them both go under for a moment. He yanks on the rescue can's rope to draw it near and he slips it under her arm until she rises, her head and shoulders breaking the water's surface.

"What are you doing?" she asks, sputtering as she blinks away the salt water and tries to get her bearings.

"Thank God you're awake," he cries, pushing her right eyelid further open with his thumb as he holds onto the can to stay upright while treading water.

"Awake? Of course I'm awake. What's the matter with you?"

He looks back to the shore, panicked. "I've got to get you out of here. You need to listen to me, Isabella. I need your help."

"You need my help?" she asks, bewildered. "I think it's the wrong time to ask me for that."

His expression crumbles like his world's collapsed. "How can you do this to me after everything we've been through? How? "

"But I don't want to…" she starts, but he jumps in before she can answer.

"Damn it all… then don't help me. You know how much I love you. I doubt you could fuck me up and make this any harder than you already have."

"Edward!" she gasps, shocked at his words.

"Just hold onto this," he says, pressing on the rescue can. "If it's the last thing you ever do for me, so be it…but whatever you do don't let go."

"But," she cries.

"Can't you just hold on?" he roars.

She's never seen him like this. She blinks and nods silently.

He finally seems to accept her wordless gesture and he turns and pushes off, beginning their long journey back to the shore.

Their passage to get out of the water is a slow, arduous one. Edward only swims a length or so before stopping to turn back and make sure she's still with him. She remains silent, her eyes wide with the shock of it all.

When they're halfway back, she can see him fading with the exhaustion. Each time he turns back, she kicks underwater furiously to help, stopping only when he pauses to check on her. When he's close enough to shore to touch bottom, he drops his feet and pushes forward until he's waist high in the water. He suddenly yanks the rope toward himself and sweeps her up in his arms.

"Put me down, you're going to have a heart attack," she warns him as he rushes forward, almost stumbling when a small wave hits them from behind.

"Too late for that, woman," he gasps. "You've already given me one."

He runs forward and drops to his knees right in front of the lifeguard station and frantically scans side to side. He sees a jogging couple approach and he waves them over. They stop immediately, looking concerned.

"What's wrong?" the man asks, while the woman studies Bella's confused expression.

"Do you have a phone?" Edward asks frantically. "We need an ambulance. She's overdosed."

The woman gasps, immediately understanding the dire situation and why Edward came out of the ocean fully dressed, shoes and all.

"What?" Bella bellows. "I didn't overdose!"

Edward turns to the couple. "Don't listen to her, please just call nine-one-one for me. Please! I love this woman, I can't lose her," he pleads.

Suddenly everything hits Bella: Edward's crazed state, his coming after her in the ocean, he thinks she's tried to kill herself.

"Edward!" she calls out, holding out the empty pill bottle she managed to cling onto. "It's empty," she says.

He grabs her wrist and waves her hand in front of the couple. "See, see! The bottle is empty!"

"Steve, call emergency," the woman says anxiously to the man.

"No!" Bella yells. "It's empty because I dumped them in the ocean. Do you really think I could speak this coherently if I took a bottle full of pills?"

The man, who already pulled his phone out of his pocket, pauses. "She has a point, Gretchen. She seems all right and he's the one that looks unhinged."

"What the fuck!" yells Edward.

"I'm fine, really," Bella says to them calmly. "He's just freaked out because he misunderstood what I was doing."

"She seems okay, really," the woman says to Edward.

"She's not okay!" he roars.

Bella shakes her head. "I am, I swear…we've just been dealing with a lot. I think it's overwhelmed him," she offers.

"Overwhelmed?" Edward yells at Bella. "You bet I'm overwhelmed. Can't everyone see that I'm desperately trying to save your life?"

"Why won't you listen to me, Edward?" Bella asks, frustrated.

The woman leans forward and speaks evenly to Edward and Bella. "You two seem like you care about each other. I know this is none of my business, but may I suggest couple's therapy? It's done wonders for us."

Edward's head drops back as he shakes it wildly looking up at the sky. "Oh good God!"

"I know this all looks positively crazy, but I swear we're fine, this is just a huge misunderstanding. Thank you for your concern though," Bella says appreciatively.

The couple doesn't look completely convinced, but after studying them for another moment they seem reassured. The woman nods to the man and then says, "Okay, then. Good luck." They move around the wet couple and continue on down the beach.

Edward looks back to her, frantic. "Now look what you've done!"

Bella drops the pill bottle in the sand and edges closer to him, placing a hand on either side of his face.

"Edward?" she asks as he looks off into the distance for someone else who can help them.

She gently shakes him. "Edward! I'm all right; you've got to believe me. Please, Edward."

She sinks to her knees in front of him and looks at him eye to eye.

His frantic eyes study hers and she realizes that he looks like he's lost his mind. It scares her, making her realize how much she needs him to be solid, not this desperate crazy man he's suddenly been reduced to.

"I'm all right, Edward. I'm all right." She pulls him into her arms and hugs him tightly.

She can feel his heart pounding like it's trying to leap out of his chest. His frantic state is frightening to her and trying to soothe him, she whispers in his ear, "I'm sorry I scared you. I'm so sorry."

He suddenly grabs onto her, buries his face in her neck and starts to sob. His emotional reaction shocks her, but more importantly, it breaks her heart. She can't believe she's caused him so much pain. She holds onto him even tighter, wanting to heal the scrapes and bruises she's marked his tender insides with.

She rocks him in her arms. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry you thought I was leaving you."

He looks up at her, his face anguished. "I can't even tell you," he says. "At first I thought you were gone already…I thought I was too late."

He's still shaken and she pulls him close again, his cheek pressed just above her heart. "Oh God, no. No, Edward. The irony is that I was doing this today for you…for us."

"Couldn't you have told me? I mean, Jesus Bella, when I went into your place today and realized the bottle was gone…"

"Oh no," she says, clearly not anticipating that would've happened.

"Were those your test results you burned in the fireplace?" he asks. "Did you look at them?"

"Yes, those were the results," she says. "And no, I didn't look at them. That's why I burned them. If they were positive I know I absolutely couldn't have handled it."

"Oh, God. So you still don't know." He rubs his hands over his eyes and turns to look into the distance.

"No," she says softly. "But wait a minute. If you were searching through my house, didn't you see the letter I wrote you? It explained everything. I wrote one to you and Jacob in my moment of clarity to make sure you understood my decision to get rid of the pills. Sometimes I don't explain things so well face to face."

"I saw it, but once I realized the pill bottle was gone I wasn't going to take time to read what I assumed was a farewell letter. The clock was ticking; I went into panic mode."

"Oh God," she moans.

"I need to get out of here," he announces suddenly.

"Okay," she says, slowly backing away and lifting herself up off the sand. "Should we go to your place, or mine?"

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "Just out of here."

He awkwardly rises off the sand like a pony finding his legs. He then heads up the lifeguard plank with the rescue can, while Bella waits curious but patiently at the bottom. When he returns back down, he has his phone and car keys in his hands. Everything, including Edward, is coated with sand.

He starts the slow walk back to his car and after grabbing her cover-up and car keys she trails him, finally joining him by his side. He's so distant. She's worried she's finally broken him.

As they approach their cars, she realizes that he's still quite wet and disoriented. "Are you sure you can drive?" she asks.

He nods. "I've got to get out of here. I'm never coming back to this fucking beach again, ever," he states.

"Okay," she says sadly.

"I don't know where I'm going yet," he warns her as he unlocks his car.

"All right, I'll just follow you," she says.

He nods, takes the parking ticket off his windshield, and gets inside.

As she trails him, he drives under the speed limit the entire way back to their neighborhood. She's surprised when he drives to her place instead of his own. He was so upset she assumed he wouldn't want to come to her place where all this trouble started.

They park and head slowly up the walkway until she silently opens the front door. After they step inside, she starts to head to the kitchen, then she looks back and notices him lingering by the door.

"What, Edward?"

"I can't do this crazy stuff, Isabella," he says, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" she says softly, trying to stay calm.

"Do you understand? I thought you were dead," he says, frustrated.

"But I'm not," she says, her arms extended out, trying to reason with him.

"I thought you were dead!" he yells. "That fucking bottle of pills was missing. What was I to think?"

"Dead? What bottle of pills?" Asks an unexpected voice.

Both Bella and Edward turn suddenly to realize that Jacob has joined them from the family room. He's the most unsettling sight, not just for the obvious reason, but because he's barefoot, yet wearing a tuxedo. It's fully buttoned with the bow tie still dangling untied from his neck.

It's just all too much. "What are you doing here?" Bella screeches to Jacob.

He steps back, alarmed. "I thought you knew I was taking Carly to that wedding," he says. "She told me that Angela talked to you about it. Besides, I sent you an email with my flight information." He shakes his head and chuckles. "I guess that explains why you didn't pick me up at the airport."

"Airport? But the wedding is next weekend," she insists.

"No, Mom. It's this weekend. Did you even read my email?"

"Oh, my God," she cries out, sinking down into the nearest chair. "I'm losing my damn mind!"

Jacob takes a moment to study the two of them. "Hello, Edward," he says, raising his eyebrows as Edward combs his hair back with his fingers. Edward's suddenly realized that he's still wet and covered with sand.

"Jacob," he responds, nodding his head.

"You two look like fucking hell. Why are you yelling at Mom, and what is this about a pill bottle?" Jacob asks, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh, God," Bella cries out again, trying to brush the sand off her cover-up.

"Your mom and I are having a little disagreement," Edward explains.

"Yeah, I've gathered that," Jacob says. "But it doesn't seem so little to me. Did you guys have a rumble in a sandbox or something? What the hell?"

"Jacob Swan," Bella warns.

"What? I thought this dude was sticking around, Mom. And I thought you made up in Italy, but now I'm not so sure."

"I'm sticking around," Edward says quietly.

"Are you?" asks Bella.

They look at each other intently as Jacob steps further into the living room and approaches the mantle. "Oh shit, you're talking about _that _pill bottle? Where is it?"

"What?" screeches Bella.

"The pill bottle you keep hidden here. Where the fuck is it?" Jacob asks.

"You know about that?" Edward asks, baffled.

"Yeah, I found it a couple of years ago," Jacob says matter-of-factly.

"What?" cries Bella.

"Don't worry, Mom," he says gently. "I understood why you did that. It made perfect sense to me."

"What the hell?" asks Edward.

"Yeah, I got it why she did that. That disease is a fucking nightmare, Edward. Of course, I would never let her off herself like that."

"So why'd you leave it up there?" asks Edward.

"I figured she just needed the comfort of knowing it was there. I knew she wouldn't actually take them and leave me like that. But just in case, I switched the real shit out for sugar pills…just in case, you know."

Edward throws back his head and laughs with a touch of hysteria. "I can't believe it!" They were fucking sugar pills! You're brilliant, Jacob!"

"Hey, thanks," Jacob responds, looking pleased.

Bella seems to finally wake from her shocked stupor. "Sugar pills?" she yells. "Sugar pills!"

"Yup," Jacob says, nodding. "The worst that could happen if you downed them all at once is a huge sugar rush."

Bella rocks forward in the chair, her face in her hands. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God," she chants. "My son switched out my pills. Oh, my God."

"Where were you two anyway?" Jacob asks Edward. "You guys seriously look like shit."

"Hermosa Beach," Edward responds. "I dragged your mom out of the ocean against her will. I thought she'd taken the pills. I didn't know she emptied them in the ocean."

"So that's when you thought she was dead? Fuck," Jacob says, shaking his head. "She's a handful. But surely you know that by now."

Edward shrugs. "Yeah. But I still like her, despite that."

"Like? You assume the very worst, rush all the way to the beach and then drag me out of the ocean because you _like_ me?" Bella says indignantly, just as the doorbell rings. They all look at each other for a moment, then Edward takes a step back and opens the door. A beautiful young woman stands on the front step.

"Is Jacob home?" she asks, studying him with a curious expression.

Edward nods and waves her in. Bella spreads her fingers hiding her face so she can look out at the visitor. The moment she realizes who it is, she drops her hands and sits up tall. Before she can greet the young woman, Jacob steps forward.

"Carly," he says softly, his voice full of awe.

She pauses next to Edward and looks taken aback at the vision of Jacob in a tux. Or maybe the tux has nothing to do with it, Bella wonders. Maybe it's just Jacob.

"Wow," she says, and smiles shyly at him.

Jacob's eyes glow, full of light. "Wow back, Carly" he replies. "Those Facebook pictures just don't do you justice. You're even more beautiful now."

Her responding smile shines brightly. "Yours either," she says.

He walks over and pulls her into a hug, then gently kisses her on the cheek. "It's sure great to see you," he says happily. "I've really missed you."

"Me too," she replies. She takes his hand in hers before looking up at Bella and Edward. "Hi, Bella. Did I interrupt something?" she asks.

Bella waves and smiles weakly at her.

"Nah," Jacob says. "This is Edward, my mom's boyfriend."

"Hello," Carly says, extending her hand so Edward can shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Carly," Edward says graciously.

"They just had a big fight at the beach," Jacob explains. "That's why they look like hell."

"A fight?" Carly asks, looking worried.

"Oh, it's okay. They do that a lot. It's sort of their thing," Jacob says.

"It's not our thing!" Bella cries, frustrated. "Why would you say that, Jacob?"

"Well, pardon me, but every time I talk to one of you there's some kind of drama. Have you not realized that?"

The doorbell rings again, and Edward groans.

"What now?" Bella asks.

Edward steps back and opens the door once again. This time, he doesn't look happy about the visitor. "What are you doing here?" he demands angrily.

"I need to see Bella," the visitor says.

"See what I mean?" Jacob says to Carly. She nods in agreement, her eyes darting from Bella to Edward to the front door.

"Oh, God." Bella sighs, recognizing the visitor's voice. "This is all we need." She shakes her head, frustrated.

"Shall I send him away?" Edward asks, anchoring his arm to the door jamb protectively and sounding very pleased by the prospect.

"Excuse me, but I've come a long way," says the visitor.

Bella twists her hands nervously. "Let me talk to him outside," she says to Edward. But she's barely out of her chair when Leo forces his way inside.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but I really need to talk to you about Jacob…" The moment he spots Jacob, he freezes in his tracks.

"Talk to my mom about me?" Jacob asks. "Why? Who are you?"

Leo looks over to Bella, panicked, and she glares at him furiously.

He looks back at Jacob, but this time he can't take his eyes off him. He marvels at this astounding young man…his son.

"Jacob," he says quietly, his eyes wide with wonder as he places his hand on his chest. "I am Leo." His gaze shifts to the girl Jacob is holding hands with. "And you must be Carly," he says, remembering their prom picture that Bella left with him. He studied Jacob's album backward and forward numerous times, so he's confident that this is Carly.

Jacob turns to Bella. "Who is this guy, and how does he know Carly?"

She's dumbstruck and looks to Edward, who shakes his head in disbelief at the turn of events.

"We met Leo in Italy," Bella finally explains nervously, trying to throw him off course.

"What does that mean?" Jacob asks, frustrated. "Why would he know who Carly and I are?"

"Your mother showed me an album with your pictures in it," explains Leo.

"Here we go," says Edward, rolling his eyes. "Maybe you should sit down, Jacob."

"Edward," Bella warns.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! Jacob asks. "You took an album to Italy with pictures of me and Carly and showed them to this random dude?"

"Dude?" Leo asks. "What is this, dude?"

"That means just some guy," Edward explains.

Leo looks affronted and stands tall. "I'm not just some dude, Jacob."

Everyone turns to look at Leo while he ignores Bella frantically waving at him. He speaks with an authority that silences the room.

"Jacob, _I_ am your father."

.

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* * *

_Oh my...I did the cliffie thing again, didn't I!  
_

_I'd love to hear what you think about all of this...  
_

_xoxo  
abbie_

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	33. Chapter 33 Our Beautiful Life

Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.

_Since this is essentially D&B's conclusion (the final chapter next week is 6 months into the future) I wanted to take a moment to give special thanks to the D&B team. I can't stress enough how lucky I've been to have long working relationships with such smart, savvy and talented women. BtwntheStacks wrote my first blog review for Work of Art and I asked her to preread for me. We've been together ever since. Lemonmartini and MsKathy offered help for Animate Me and continued on through Dodge and Burn. Azucena has been a tremendous support for all three of my stories. My work has developed thanks to their insight and care. Their friendships are very special to me.  
_

_Their generous efforts provide examples of what makes the fanfic community so special. We come together in amazing ways to support each other's creative endeavors. Rose Arcadia made a wonderful blinkie for D&B. Eddiebell made banners and Iris-Elli found great images that helped make the Facebook page a visual feast.  
_

_And finally you, the readers...Your reviews have taught me so much. I have taken each one, both good and bad, into my consciousness. You have showed me how it feels to love and hate characters, to have hope and how it feels when hope seems lost. I have a tougher shell and a more tender soul now thanks to you and I think my writing is better for it. You make every late night, every sacrifice so worth it. With a full heart, I thank you all. xoxo abbie  
_

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirty-Three / Our Beautiful Life**

.

Bella gasps and Edward winces as Jacob and Carly react with shock to Leo's declaration.

"What?" Jacob asks with an unsteady voice. "You're my _father_?"

"Leo!" Bella yells.

"What, Bella? What am I to do? I cannot deny what I am to him. He's my flesh and blood."

Jacob is shaking his head in disbelief, and Carly has her head angled with a curious look. She reaches over and pulls on Jacob's tuxedo sleeve. "You know, he looks a lot like you, Jacob. I bet he _is_ your dad."

"Well that was helpful," Edward quietly observes in a random way, nodding toward Carly. He settles into one of the armchairs and stretches out his sand-covered legs.

"Thank you, Carly. I _am_ his father and I must tell you, Jacob, hearing this news was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jacob raises his eyebrows and turns to Bella. "Is this for real, Mom? Or just another one of your wild escapades?"

"Oh God," Bella groans, dropping her head to her knees.

"Are you okay, Bella? You don't look well?" Leo asks.

"Hey, thanks a million," Bella moans into her knees.

"What's wrong with her?" he asks Edward.

Edward, who looks rather wild himself, leans back into his chair and shrugs. "Rough day."

Bella laughs and lifts up enough to rest her elbows on her knees and press her fists under her chin. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

She looks at Leo and then points to Edward. "Hey, he doesn't look so great either. What about him?"

"No, he looks like hell. But I don't care about him. I care about you," Leo points out.

Jacob coughs and Edward makes a face before replying, "Truer words have never been spoken."

"So can we refocus here?" Jacob asks. "I need some answers, and I need them now. Like, does this mean I'm no longer a bastard child?"

The color drains from Bella's face. "Jacob?" she asks, sadly.

He looks over to Leo with his arms stretched and his hands out. "Well?"

"Ah, technically Jacob, you're still a bastard child," Carly offers helpfully.

"Oh," Jacob answers, looking a bit crestfallen.

"My son is not a bastard!" Leo insists.

Bella suddenly leaps out of her chair and claps loudly once. "Okay, okay…enough of all of this. I need to talk to my son privately."

Edward nods. "Good idea. You may want to address the pill bottle thing while you're at it."

"Pill bottle?" Leo asks.

Bella glares at Edward. "Never mind that, Leo. And Edward, I'm glad you seemed to have calmed down, but can you please not make this any harder."

Edward squints at her, thinking she looks kind of hot with her wild hair and sand-covered legs. Then he realizes that he must be losing his mind to even be thinking such a thing in a time like this.

Bella walks over to Jacob and places her hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Jacob. Let's go sit in the garden."

He grabs Carly's hand. "Please wait for me. Okay?" he asks.

"Of course," she says sweetly. "Don't worry, Jacob. I'm here for you, no matter how long it takes."

He smiles happily and squeezes her hand. "Thank you." He turns to his mother. "I need to get out of this monkey suit. Give me a minute and I'll meet you out back."

When Jacob's stepped away, Leo speaks up. "Bella…I did not know he was here. I was shocked and spoke, not thinking."

She sighs. "I know, I know. Just let me talk to him first, okay?"

Leo nods and Bella turns and heads to the backyard.

.

There's a long silence after Bella and Jacob head outside.

"Well now," Edward says, looking up at Leo. "This sure is fun. Have a seat, Leonard…take a load off. You too, Carly."

Leo gives Edward a look and then settles into the chair across from him. Carly walks up to the mantle. "What happened here?" she asks, starting to turn the knocked over pictures upright and move things back in order.

"I was looking for something," Edward says. "I was in a hurry."

"I can see that," Carly says, picking up a broken, small vase from the floor that has busted into several large pieces. "Maybe this can be repaired," she comments to herself.

They all look up startled when the doorbell rings again. "I'll get it," Carly offers, moving toward the door before Edward can stop her.

"For God's sake, don't let anyone else in," Edward warns her.

When the door's open, there's a set of surprised gasps. "Michael!" Carly calls out happily. "It's so great to see you!"

"Michael?" Edward growls, and Leo looks over at him, concerned.

"Great to see you too, Carly," he says, stepping inside and giving her a hug. "Are you visiting Bella, or is Jacob home from school?" He gives her a big, hopeful grin.

"Jacob," she admits, smiling.

"That's great, so great," Michael says knowingly.

"Well isn't this cozy," Edward comments. "How the hell do you two know each other?"

"Yes, who is this man hugging Jacob's Carly?" Leo asks Edward, looking concerned.

"I'm Bella's friend. Her ex, as a matter of fact," Michael answers.

"Her accountant," Edward throws in, smirking.

"Our Bella was with _him_?" Leo asks, aghast.

"I know. Hard to believe; right? Imagine how I feel following this guy? At least you're a suave Italian and all that."

Leo nods in agreement.

"So who's this?" Michael asks Carly, nodding towards Leo.

"Jacob's father," Carly says, her eyes wide.

"Jacob's father? No shit! Wow. Just wow. I think I'm going to sit down, too." He studies Leo for a moment. "So you're the Italian guy she dated in photography school."

Leo nods. "We were deeply in love."

"Can you do me a favor, Leonard, and tone it down with the love stuff." Edward says to Leo before turning to Carly. "So I'm still waiting to hear your connection to Mr. Numbers over here."

"Oh, Michael helped me with my college scholarship and financial aid paperwork. He was awesome."

"And from what I hear, you're doing amazing work, Carly," he replies proudly.

"Thanks Michael," she says. "Hey, I need some water. It looks like we could be waiting for a while. Do you gentlemen want anything?"

"I need a beer," Edward replies.

"Me too," Michael agrees.

"If Bella doesn't have any wine open, make that three," Leo chimes in.

.

The three men sit silently for a while until Michael finally speaks up.

"So, where are Bella and Jacob anyway?"

Leo waves his hand toward the back of the house. "In the garden."

Michael nods his head and taps his fingers on the edge of the couch nervously. He moves his briefcase from in front of him to the side of the couch.

Edward looks over and notices that Michael is in his work clothes. He's even wearing a tie. "What are you doing here anyway?" Edward asks Michael.

"We had an appointment to work on her taxes," Michael says.

"Well, I can promise you that she won't be doing any tax work today. So you can just leave, and I'll tell her to reschedule with you," Edward says.

"Are you kidding? And miss all of this? I'm not going anywhere." He leans forward and picks up a picture book from the ottoman to flip through.

Carly rejoins them and passes out the beverages. "So where in Italy do you live, Leo?" she asks, trying to make polite conversation to break up the thick tension in the room.

"Lucca," he responds.

"Oh, that's in Tuscany, isn't it? I've always wanted to go there."

"Well, you and Jacob must come as my guests as soon as possible. Early fall or late spring is ideal. You can bring Bella, too."

"I don't think so, Leonard," Edward says, shaking his head.

"Leo-nard-o, Leo reminds him.

"Whatever," Edward responds gruffly. "Isabella stays with me."

"Can I go?" asks Michael, looking up from his book. Everyone turns to him, shocked. He grins, putting his hands up in the air. "Just kidding. I thought this room could use some lightening up."

The room goes quiet again, as they all sit and sip their drinks and pretend not to watch each other.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella sits on the swing and Jacob, now in old jeans and a T-shirt, pulls the chaise lounge over closer so he can sit facing her.

"So first things, first, Mom," Jacob says calmly as he sits down and leans toward her. "Please tell me you weren't intending to off yourself with this _oceanic symbolic swim with the pills crap_. Because that shit will really piss me off."

"No," she replies firmly. "No offing myself."

"Good, glad to hear it. But man, that stunt really pissed off your boyfriend."

"Yes, apparently I have developed quite a knack for pissing him off."

"I can see that," he agrees. "You may want to tone that down."

"Thank you for that advice. Actually, Jacob, I've determined that I'd be a better girlfriend if I decided not to live in fear of getting Alzheimer's anymore. That's what today was all about."

"Well, cool. I can get behind that. You shouldn't worry about it anyway-it's either going to happen or it's not, so don't fret about it and enjoy your life," Jacob says.

"But the thing is, I had planned to have a serious discussion with you about it. You know I don't want you to ever take care of me like I took care of Grandma. But I guess I got ahead of myself today," Bella explains.

"It's okay, Mom. We have lots of time to work out that stuff. Besides, I plan to cure Alzheimer's so there's really nothing to worry about." He grins like he did when he was a kid.

She leans forward and messes up his hair. "You always wanted to be Superman. I love you, my sweet boy."

"Mom, I'm not a sweet boy anymore," he says.

"I know, I know," she agrees. "And I think Carly knows it, too. Did you see the way she looked at you? Good idea wearing the tux, dude. That's how to make a great impression with the ladies."

"Well I can't take credit for that, Mom. She was coming over to make sure it fit all right for the wedding tomorrow."

"Oh, I see. But still, she looks like she wanted to do more than fit your tux."

"Mom," he says, blushing. "Be classy. You know I'm so in love with her. I'd marry her today if she'd have me. It's always been Carly for me."

She smiles at him tenderly. "Oh, I know, baby. So can I give you some advice?"

"Ha! Advice from the woman who's always fighting with her boyfriend?"

"We're not always fighting! We make love far more than we fight."

"Too much information," Jacob insists with his hand up.

"So with Carly, just treat her really well, Jacob. Try to see things from her side, try to imagine and do what would make her happy and then she will do the same for you."

"Wow, real relationship advice from Bella Swan," he teases. "This is a first. You've lived a barren, boyfriendless life for most of my growing up years, you know."

"Yeah, well, there was Michael and I've got a boyfriend and an ex waiting for me in the living room, so I haven't exactly been a nun."

There's a long pause as they study each other.

"Jacob?" she asks gently. "Can we talk about your father, Leo?"

"You mean my sperm donor. He isn't my father."

"That isn't fair. He didn't know about you until just weeks ago. He's here now, isn't he?"

"And why didn't he know?"

"I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Him rejecting you, rejecting us."

"Are you serious? I thought you were braver than that. And to think I could've been traipsing around Italy with all those Italian babes all this time, and instead I've lived this boring American existence."

"Boring?" she asks, her voice edged with disbelief.

"Well, life with you is never exactly boring, but still…" he says.

"Jacob, why can't you be serious about this?"

"Look, cut me a break will you? In the last twenty minutes I've learned that my mother may have tried to kill herself, the love of my life finally looked at me in a way that makes me believe this will no longer be a one-sided clusterfuck. Then some Italian dude shows up on our doorstep looking to bond with me, his newly discovered son. What exactly are you expecting from me here, Mom? Because I defy anyone to handle all of this gracefully."

"You have a point," she says.

She pushes off the swing and rocks for a minute, watching him. "He told me he wants you to come stay with him in his villa."

"He has a villa?" Jacob asks.

"Yes, and you can bring Carly."

"Really?" Jacob looks thoughtful.

"And he's desperate to get to know you, to be a dad to you. He's a good man, Jacob."

"Mmm," Jacob responds.

"And he drives a very fast Fiat. And he's very smart, and very talented. He was always very good to me."

"Do you really think he was impressed with me? I mean, he didn't really get to talk to me."

"He was impressed," Bella says without hesitation. "In Italy, he asked me a million questions about you. He never had kids, Jacob. You're his legacy."

"Whoa. I'm a legacy."

"So, can you be open-minded? Give him a chance, so you guys can get to know each other. You don't have to like him, just give him the chance he never had because of my mistake."

Jacob stands up and paces to one end of the pool and back.

"Okay," he agrees simply. "Let's go get this father-son thing going. I'm not ready to call him Dad yet, but I won't call him a sperm donor again."

"Thanks," she says, smiling. Bella stands and puts her hands on his shoulders. "I know you hate it when I fawn over you, but can I tell you how much I love you? You're amazing."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Mom."

..~*~..

"Look who's back," says Bella cheerfully as she and Jacob enter the living room. She looks over and notices the addition to the group. "Michael, what are you doing here?"

He sets the book down. "Bella, remember? We had an appointment to go over your taxes. Can we meet now?" Michael asks in mock seriousness, knowing very well what the answer is.

"I'm so sorry, but no," she answers, bewildered. "I'm sure you've gathered there's a lot going on. I'm frankly amazed you're still here."

He shrugs. "Where else would I go? Besides, this has been rather entertaining."

"Michael," she says, giving him a bug-eyed look.

"But Bella, next time you forget an appointment I'm charging you," he teases.

"Be my guest," she replies with a smile, but then her expression shifts to humble. "I'm sorry I forgot, Michael, today got kind of crazy."

He stands up and grabs his briefcase. "It's okay, besides it's great to see Carly and Jacob again. Why don't you call me when or _if _your schedule calms down."

Michael lets himself out and all the attention turns to Jacob. Leo is studying him intently for any clue as to where he stands.

"Are you okay?" Carly asks Jacob.

Jacob smiles warmly at her and nods. "I'm fine."

Leo stands up. "I'm very sorry that you got the news like this, Jacob. I didn't know you would be here today."

"Yeah, Mom told me."

"But that doesn't change the fact that I'm so happy to meet you. It would mean a lot to me if you would give us a chance to get to know each other."

Edward notices how nervous Bella looks as she watches her son. It reminds him of the risk Bella took seeking out Leo, and how much rests on this moment.

Jacob stares down at his bare feet, deep in thought, then gazes up and looks Leo in the eye. "Sure, we can do that," Jacob replies. "I'm not ready to call you Dad or anything, but I'd like to know more about you…more about your family."

Leo's face lights up with happiness. It even chokes up Edward a bit as he tries to imagine what this must feel like for this father and his son. Leo steps forward and extends his hand to Jacob. "I'd like that. My family name is Leonardo Simone Russo, but you can call me Leo."

Jacob accepts his hand and shakes it. "Okay, Leo it is." He gestures to Carly. "We have this wedding thing tomorrow to go to, but if you want we could have lunch on Sunday before I have to head to the airport."

"Thank you, Jacob. That would be wonderful. Shall I pick you up at noon?"

"Yeah, that works."

"Okay, I think I will head to my hotel now. I need to recover from my long flight and… all of this," Leo says, smiling.

Bella leads him to the front door and they wordlessly give each other a long, knowing look edged with relief. "We'll talk later," she says quietly as she hugs him goodbye. By the time she closes the door, Carly and Jacob are already hand in hand, heading toward the backyard.

.

Edward takes a sip of his beer as he watches Bella slowly walk to one of the chairs and sit down. She notices an abandoned beer bottle on the ottoman tray, and she lifts it to the light to determine that it is still half full. Not caring who the beer belonged to, she lifts it to her lips and takes a long swig, then leans back into the chair and closes her eyes.

"The only thing that would have made that more thrilling is if Lauren had showed up. Yes, that would have made the afternoon complete," Bella says.

Edward chuckles. "I can call her and get her over here if you'd like."

Bella opens one eye to glare at him and shakes her head. "Oh, that's very kind of you, but no thanks. Hey, that reminds me, how did your talk with her go last night?"

Edward considers the question for a minute as he remembers the long night. "It was cathartic," he admits. "Perhaps the best talk we've ever had."

Bella's eyes pop open wide and she leans forward as her cheeks flush. "The best? So what does that mean?"

"It means we talked about things that we should have talked about years ago."

"Does it mean anything else?" Bella asks, feeling hopeful he made progress.

"She signed the divorce papers," Edward says.

"Really?" Bella asks, smiling.

"Yes. She agreed to the divorce," he states simply, smiling back.

"I'm shocked. How did you get her to agree to do that?"

"She finally realized that I've changed fundamentally and my heart completely belongs to someone else now."

"And who might that be?" Bella asks coyly.

Edward sets down his beer bottle and holds out his arms. She gets up and slowly walks over to him until she's standing between his legs. He reaches up and rests his hands on her hips."

"You," he whispers.

"What was that?" she asks softly.

He leans forward until his forehead is pressed against her belly.

"You."

She smiles and crawls onto his lap, noticing his shorts, although still caked with sand, are almost dry.

"Can I ask you something?" Edward asks.

"Anything," she replies.

"I know that you didn't realize I'd come looking for you, but did you really have to be so dramatic this morning-going to the beach and all? I mean, what happened to talking to Jacob about the future first?"

"You're right…but I had a huge epiphany last night and it turned all my carefully laid plans upside down."

"It sure did. I may not have liked your method, but I'm glad for the end results."

"Yes, at least we both agree about that," she says. "Moving forward I promise I'll work on my dramatic tendencies."

"Thank you. That would be helpful," he says with a nod.

She looks down and notices the sand settling into the upholstery. "Hey, can we go outside and hose each other off? I'm getting itchy from all this sand."

"Sure," he says as she eases off his lap.

As he walks behind her, he admires the swing of her hips. "After we get the sand off how about a hot shower? I've always wanted to wash your hair."

"Ooo that sounds great." She turns around and grins. "So you aren't mad at me anymore?" she asks.

"Just a little bit, but I'll get over it."

She reaches back and takes his hand, weaving their fingers together as they approach the French doors to the backyard. When she grabs the doorknob, she suddenly stops. "Oh my God, will you look at that!"

"What?" Edward asks, stepping alongside her.

"Look, look!" She points through the window. Jacob and Carly are sitting on the swing and kissing passionately.

"Whoa," Edward says, smiling. "Go Jacob!"

"I can't believe it!" Bella says happily.

"Looks like they have it all figured out. No drama, no dancing around it…" Edward says.

"Just love," Bella says, sighing.

"We should take a lesson from those two," Edward says as he slides his arm around Bella and pulls her closer into his side.

She tips her head against his shoulder. "Well, in fairness to us, we did have a few messes to clean up so the decks were clear."

"And look at the progress we've made since yesterday," Edward says. "My divorce papers are signed."

"Yes," says Bella. "There's no more bottle on the mantle, and the ocean is the tiniest bit sweeter now that all my sugar pills have dissolved."

Edward laughs. "Yup."

"And from that, we've agreed that we will deal with the future together, Edward, whatever life hands us."

He leans over and kisses her on the forehead. "That's right, Isabella."

They look back out at Jacob and Carly who are now talking and laughing as the swing rocks.

"Oh, and lets not forget that now Jacob knows about his dad and seems okay about it," Edward says.

"Yes, thank God," says Bella letting out a big sigh of relief.

"He's such an impressive kid. I mean seriously, Bella, how he handled all of that just now."

"He's a rock," she says, nodding.

"And as for our exes, Leo and Lauren, I think they're very clear where things stand now," Edward says.

"Yes, they are." Bella turns to Edward so they're face to face. "So right now, this very moment this is it! Are you ready?"

He smiles. "So ready. Now what am I ready for?"

"This is the very start of our brand new beautiful life," she says happily.

"Yes, it is," he says softly. He looks into her bright eyes as he pushes her tangled, sandy hair off her face. He slowly leans down and kisses her tenderly.

"Shower?" she whispers, winking as he pulls away.

"Oh yeah, my beautiful mermaid, lets go get wet."

.

.

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_We made it through the crazy day! I'd love to hear how you're feeling now..._

_See you next Saturday with the final chapter._

_xoxo_

_abbie_

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	34. Chapter 34 Wings To Fly

_Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn._

_Much love and thanks to Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy...I appreciate your wise insight, support and friendship so much._

..~*~..

_This chapter is dedicated to my mom who was always my hero and my staunchest supporter. She gave me my wings to fly. Although she is 13 years into Alzheimer's and no longer knows who I am, she lives in this story. I couldn't have written it without her. _

_I wrote Dodge and Burn because I needed too. Bella's fears live in me and writing this story made me face it all, and I am changed for it. The fact that you traveled this rocky road with me, shared your pain and stories, and hung in there even when the flawed characters made you furious means the world to me. I give you all a big collective hug. Thank you…thank you, I am so grateful._

_..~*~.._

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**Dodge and Burn / Chapter Thirty-Four / Wings to Fly**

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_Six months later…_

_._

"Oh my God," Bella gasps. "I think it's too big. I don't think it's going to fit."

"We've come this far, Isabella," Edward says, panting. "Even if I force it, I'm going to make it fit."

"Be careful!" she warns him. "You can't force something like this! It's just so huge," she groans. "Maybe it's too big."

"You know I like that it's so big," he says proudly. "And if it were smaller, yes it would fit more easily, but I'm not giving up."

He grunts as he pushes harder.

"Look at your muscles, handsome. God you're so sexy when you exert yourself like this."

He looks down at her. "I'm glad you think so, but can you focus, baby? I need your help to do this."

"Okay, okay, just a little more I think. I'm still not sure why we thought we could do this."

"Because it's going to be amazing once we've got it in," Edward says, pushing a little harder.

Bella tips her head back and moans. "Oooo yes! That's it, that's it! Perfect!"

Edward lets out a deep breath and sighs with relief.

She sweeps her arms up dramatically. "And you're right, it's amazing. It's found it's new home."

"It only took five months to finally get it up!" he exclaims, shaking his head.

"Yes, but it was worth the wait," she says.

.

Bella imagined weeks before they decided to live together that Edward's painting would look great in the front room of her studio, and it makes her so happy to finally see it there. Finally, after months of transitioning and weaving their lives and worlds together, her home is his, too.

Edward steps back to join her, and grins. "Oh yeah, it's perfect. It was a tight fit, but the effort was worth it." He gives her a big hug. "Thanks for your help."

"We make a good team," she says happily.

.

..~*~..

.

Bella brings out two glasses of lemonade while Edward finishes watering the freshly planted flower beds they worked on earlier. He notices the exotic henna tattoos covering her hands and wrists from the street fair have almost completely faded.

"It was so warm today, I thought they could use a good soak," he says, gesturing towards the budding flowers.

She loves that he takes pride in their home; he always seems to be fixing something or tending to the yard.

"Thank you for doing that," she says. "Sometime, remind me to tell you about a dream I had where my mom visited me back here. We talked about our garden and the flowers you and I planted."

He brushes off his hands and sits down next to her, accepting his glass of lemonade.

"Really?" he asks. "Tell me about it. Was before I moved in?"

"Actually, about six months ago…the night of the Esme's Place fundraiser."

Edward sits and thinks for a moment. "As I recall, that was a very big night. The next day was crazy town…the day that changed everything."

"Yes, it was," she says, smiling.

"Oh, I get it now," he says knowingly. "Did this dream with your mother have something to do with the epiphany you spoke of? The one that sent you on your mission to Hermosa Beach."

She sighs and nods her head. "Mom spoke to me about you, Edward. She was very encouraging. And you know what? She was right. She said you were just getting your legs and the best was yet to come."

"Did she now?" he says, fighting a smile.

"Yes, and look at what a success you've made of Esme's Place. And thanks to Jonathan, it looks like the second Esme's Place will open downtown next year."

He smiles and nods. "Things are good. I don't think I've ever felt this content."

"Me either," she agrees, curling up under his arm.

He holds up his glass. "To Esme."

For a minute, Bella allows herself to think that her mom's spirit is somewhere near, experiencing this moment with them.

"Yes," she agrees as she lifts her glass. "Thanks, Mom."

The sun's warm and Bella fights the urge to just strip down and dive into the pool. Feeling lazy, instead, she sits down on the pool edge, pushes her shorts up and eases her legs into the water so she can dangle her feet.

"So how did Jacob seem when you saw him earlier to pick up the painting?"

"He was in great spirits," Edward answers. "You know he had that meeting this morning at UCLA."

"Right, at the Easton Center. That's where they're doing the Alzheimer's research," Bella says. "It was the first meeting with the actual team he'll be working with."

"Yes, and he was really excited. I'm glad he decided to take the position here as opposed to the one back east."

Bella nods. "So am I. But as we know, Carly factored into that decision greatly. He's so crazy about her. I think he'd go to the ends of the earth to be with her."

"I think so, too," Edward agrees. "You know when we were in the loft to carry out the painting, all the colored flags you hung for me were still up there."

"Really?" says Bella. "That surprises me. I thought that'd be the first thing he would take down when they moved in. He's not always a fan of my penchant for lots of color."

"Yes, but today he told me that Carly loves them, so they're staying up."

"Well, what do you know, my son actually took my advice," she says surprised.

"And what was that?" Edward asks.

"I told him to try to imagine what Carly wants, and do what would make her happy."

"Good advice," Edward says, nodding.

"Thanks," she responds, watching him finish off his lemonade. "I learned that from you. Speaking of the kids, Edward, Jacob says you haven't cashed their rent check yet. What are you waiting for?"

"Oh, I don't know," he answers vaguely as he joins her poolside.

"What's up?" she asks, sliding her foot over his in the water.

"They're students, Isabella. And they just spent all that money on their trip to Italy."

"You're undercharging them as it is. Besides, Leo paid for their flights and they stayed with him. I doubt he let them pay for anything."

"Can't I just spoil them a little? I don't want things to be too hard for them."

She leans into him. "I love you, you big softie."

He lifts her hand and kisses it. "I love you, too."

She looks up and studies the way the light is filtering through the nearby tree. With each breeze brushing over them, it shimmers. It makes her think about how some of the best things just can't be truly captured in a photograph and yet lucky for her, some can.

"Hey, after my shoot tomorrow, I'll need to get into the darkroom," Bella says. "Jacob asked for a picture of us. He wants me to bring it to dinner tomorrow night."

"Really? Why a picture of us?" Edward asks.

"It's sweet, actually. When he and Carly were in Italy, they got to know all of Leo's big family."

"That must've been overwhelming," Edward says.

"It was, but he also got a kick out of it. He said there were some really grand personalities in the group. He joked with me that I must be part Italian."

"I can see that," Edward agrees, grinning.

She rolls her eyes playfully. "Anyway, he said it made him feel weird that he came from such a tiny family. But then he realized that he does have a big family, but it's made up of our good friends who have become family to us."

"That sounds like something Jacob would say. He's so upbeat," Edward says.

"So that's why he and Carly are throwing this family potluck dinner, and having a bunch of us over."

"I see. I was wondering why it was such a big group. I saw the table and chairs you loaned him earlier at the loft."

"Yes, and he asked each of us to bring current pictures of ourselves that he could put them in an album and take it to Italy when they go back in the spring."

"He wants to show Leo's family _his_ family?"

"Yes," Bella says. "So I'm going to print one of us from our shoot months back."

"Can I help?" Edward asks. "Remember you promised me once that you would show me how."

"I'd love to show you. What time are you done at the center?"

"Since it's Saturday, I should be out of there by three," he says.

"Okay, I'll get it set up and then wait for you."

.

..~*~..

.

"Isabella," Edward calls out the next afternoon in the front room of the studio.

"I'm in the back in the darkroom," she calls back. "You changed into old clothes, right? You don't want to get the chemicals on your good jeans."

"Yup, I changed," he says as he reaches her just outside the darkroom. He's got old worn, faded jeans on with a paint-stained T-shirt.

"Oh, I love those jeans on you. Are you sure you want to risk them?"

"I'm sure," he says. "They're falling apart. Look, they have a hole on the backside."

He turns around to show her and she reaches over and slips her fingers inside.

"Yeah, that's why I like these," she teases, as her fingers explore.

He grins at her as she takes an apron off a hook and loops it over his head and then wraps the tie around him, lingering so she can step close and breath in his scent. When she's done, she gives him a kiss.

"Okay you," she says as she leads him inside. "Ready for your lesson?"

"Sure am. But wait a minute, I thought it was supposed to be dark in the dark room. You've got the lights on," he says. "What fun is that?"

"Just while setting up the developing trays. It probably wouldn't be smart to pour chemicals in the dark. I'll turn off the lights when we're ready to start."

"What about that smell?" he asks, pointing to the trays. "It's not very sexy."

"Did you expect this to be sexy?"

"You, in a dark room? Developing things? Of course I did," he teases.

Bella tries to get him to focus and shows him the basic equipment: how the enlarger works, the lenses, paper tray, and various tools. "So you put your negative in this holder, spray it with the canned air to get any dust off, and then fit it into the enlarger."

"This is pretty cool," he says, watching her closely.

"I think so," she says, happy that he's interested.

He watches her set the timing dial. She hits the button so he can see the image project on the tray. She then points to the table behind them and explains the timing on the developer, the stop bath, and then the fix bath.

"Okay, are you ready?" she asks. "I'm going to turn off the light now."

"You bet," he replies as he places his hands on her hips and squeezes. She can feel the tension vibrate off him already. He's not the first man she's known whose libido goes off the chart in a darkroom.

When she shuts off the main light, all that's left is a faint red glow.

"What's that red cast?" he asks, feeling strange that he can barely see her. His fingers press into the soft part of her hips and she sighs, feeling her libido spike, too.

"It's called the safelight. Once your eyes adapt, it give you just enough sight to see what you're doing. The printing paper doesn't get exposed from the red light."

"Interesting it's called a safelight. It doesn't seem safe in here at all." He runs his finger down the center of her back.

"We'll see about that," she teases. "Are you ready?" She reaches behind her until her fingers graze his abs.

He steps up behind her as close as possible. She feels his breath against her ear and she smiles. "Yeah," he whispers.

"First, we want to position the image on the tray." She turns on the enlarger light that projects the image, and adjusts the lens up and down, then the paper tray side to side to get the cropping and size she wants. She uses a viewing tool to focus the image precisely.

"Look at that striking couple," Edward says as she tapes the holder down so it doesn't shift while they work. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, kissing the back of her neck.

"And you're so handsome," she says, grinning as she turns off the light then pulls a sheet of printing paper from the light tight box and slides it in the tray.

"Now first, we'll do a test to determine what the exposure should be."

"Okay, boss," he says, finding her technical expertise very sexy. He moves his hands up to her waist.

"Pay attention to what I do," she says, pretending to be stern.

Edward nods and watches her hit the exposure button, then hold a piece of black cardboard over the image, revealing more of the print every five seconds.

"I think it should be about twenty seconds, but we'll see." She slips the paper out of the tray and then moves to the developer bath. She pushes the print under the liquid and taps it down with a pair of tongs. "You need to immerse it fully or it won't develop evenly," she explains.

He watches her gently rock the tray and hum quietly. "Look, Edward! There you are," she exclaims as their image starts to appear.

"It's like magic," he says as he watches their image form more fully with the descending stripes of values, dark to light.

Using the tongs, she lifts the print from the corner, lets it drip, then lowers it into the second tray with the stop bath.

"It's weird. You give it a bath to stop it. What if you don't stop it?"

"It gets dark and muddy," Bella explains. "Now the fix bath." She moves the wet print into the third tray. "This is what makes it permanent."

"This makes me want to give you a bath," he whispers.

"That can be arranged," she says, leaning into him.

When she finally moves the print from the fix to an empty tray, she turns to him. "Okay, follow me, Romeo. We're going to go look at it now."

With the fixer rinsed off, Bella lifts the print to the stainless steel viewing frame for them to study.

"What do you think? Which stripe looks best to you?"

Edward leans in and studies the different values. He points to tone of the stripes. "This one is too washed out and this one is a little dark to me, so I think this one is best."

"Good eye," she agrees. "And the contrast looks good, so let's try a full one."

They go through the process again with Bella batting his hands away every time he tries to lift her skirt. "Focus, Edward!" she says, laughing.

Once they're out in the light, Edward smiles. "I like it. Don't you?"

"Yes, but see how I'm a little washed out here, and you a little dark there? We can fix that. Come on; I'll show you."

Back at the enlarger, she pulls out her tools and then sets up a fresh sheet of paper. "Okay, watch this," she says. "I'm going to have you do the next one."

When the exposure starts, Bella waves a black disk at the end of a wire over the dark parts of Edward's face. Then she holds a large black card with a hole up near the lens and turns the enlarger back on so she can wave more light to the washed out part of her face. "This is called dodging and burning," she explains. "This extra light will add more value to me…"

"And you lightened the shadows where I was too dark?" he asks.

She nods. "So now we will balance."

"Funny," he says. "I think you've already dodged and burned me, baby. Haven't you? You've been doing it since we first met."

She laughs softly, then turns to him. "I don't know…I'd like to think we've developed together. Light and shadow, finding our balance until we got it right."

He pulls her into his arms. "And it's so right," he says softly before he kisses her.

She's almost lost in him when she suddenly pulls away. "The stop bath!" she reminds him.

"Oh, yeah." He laughs as she turns back to the trays and moves the print from one bath to the other. He leans into her from behind and lets his hands wander. By the time she pulls the print out of the fixer, his hands are under her shirt cupping her breasts, his lips grazing her neck.

"Not safe at all," he groans as his fingertips circle her nipples. He's no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to his lesson.

She moans. "I have to finish this one for tonight, and you're making this so hard."

"Oh yes," he groans, grinding up against her to illustrate her point. "Yes, I am."

Determined, she breaks away from him and rushes out to the print washer to immerse the print. She's pulled off her apron by the time she turns to see him moving toward her. Judging from the dark look in his eyes, there's no question that the printing lesson is over.

"Wall?" he growls, taking her into his arms and pressing her against the cool stucco.

She shakes her head while pushing off her panties. "Couch," she gasps before he can undo his jeans.

He grins and lifts her in his arms so she can wrap her legs around him as he carries her down the hall to the front office.

A moment later he lets her take control as she laughs, pushing him onto the couch and climbing up to straddle him. He watches as she pulls off her shirt, skirt and bra with amazing dexterity. When she opens his jeans and takes him in her warm hands, his head falls back with pleasure.

"Oh, Isabella," he whispers. "Can I...?"

"Hush," she whispers just before she kisses him.

The last images he sees before she sinks down over him are her beautiful breasts still flushed with his handprints and her bright eyes reflecting her tender-hearted love. He sighs, realizing that she's framed in an abstract halo from the big painting behind her. It's a perfect moment.

As she slowly rolls her hips, taking him deep, she is swirling passion, soft sighs, and brilliant sparks. Ever moving and changing, she's his kaleidoscope he holds up to the brightest light.

.

..~*~..

.

"So here's the print," Bella says proudly, holding it up to Jacob as he greets them at the door.

"Oh, that's a really great photo of you guys," he says, taking it carefully. "You shot it didn't you, Mom?"

"I did," she says happily.

"Thanks for remembering to do this and all the other stuff to pull tonight together," Jacob says.

"Anything for you," Bella says as she hugs him.

"Hey, Isabella, have you noticed how long it's been since you've forgotten anything? You're reminding me to do stuff I'm forgetting these days," Edward says.

"Yeah, I agree," says Jacob. "You've been nailing it, Mom."

She grins. "I was thinking about that the other day. I'm feeling so sharp. Maybe it's because life has calmed down, surely all the stress we were going through a while back wasn't helping anything."

"See, what'd I tell you?' Jacob says, squeezing her arm affectionately.

"Hey, guys," Carly says, approaching and giving Bella and Edward hugs. She notices the photo in Jacob's hand and her eyes get wide. "Wow, Bella, what a great shot of you two."

"She's so talented," Edward says proudly. "And she baked this pie, too!"

"But you made the pasta," Bella points out. "He's becoming quite the cook."

"Look at you guys getting all lovey-dovey and dull on me. Honestly, you were more exciting when you were fighting all the time."

"Really?" asks Edward, genuinely curious before remembering that being exciting can be highly overrated.

Carly takes the pie from Bella and leads them further inside. "Is it weird coming to your old place as a visitor?" she asks Edward as they enter the main room.

"Actually, it's kind of great. This place finally feels happy to me."

Bella reaches over and takes his hand, squeezing it knowingly.

He looks down at her and smiles. "And besides, I was meant to be with Isabella. My home is wherever she is."

.

The wine pours freely, while Angela tosses the salad and Michael and Emmett grill steaks on the barbeque. Rose shows Jacob the picture she brought of her, Emmett, and the kids taken on the beach, and one of her parents with her and Edward when they were kids.

Leah's brought her grilled vegetables with quinoa, and Maria shows Eric, Rose's oldest son how to smash avocados for her homemade guacamole and chips. Sarah wants to show Bella her latest Pokémon card acquisitions, so they sit on the couch along with little Caleb while Sarah excitedly points out her new favorites.

Carly has covered the table with brightly colored cloths and has tealights running down the center of the spread setting off a festive glow. One by one, people fill their plates and take a seat until everyone has joined the group. Bella beams with pride as Jacob stands at the head of his table and raises his glass.

"This has been a big year for Mom and me. I have my Carly back, and thanks to Edward we get to live together in this amazing loft. Mom has found a great man in Edward, and his family has become part of ours. And I've met my dad and we've traveled to Italy to meet the rest of his family. Wow, right?"

Everyone laughs happily.

"You know, when enjoying all this goodness I can't help but think back to the hard times, during Grandma's illness, how you guys got us through. Even after she died, Mom and I never felt alone. You showed us the true meaning of friendship and love. So what I've learned through these years is that true friends are the family you chose, and family is everything."

Bella presses her fingers into her thighs, willing herself not to cry. She knows it would embarrass Jacob to see her lose it. Edward instinctively reaches out and clasps her hand under the table.

Angela looks over at Carly who's watching Jacob with tears in her eyes. She smiles as she tips her head, overwhelmed with how wonderfully things have worked out.

"So, tonight is about celebrating you guys, my family…_our_ family. Thank you for being the most important part of our lives."

"To family," Emmett says, grinning and lifting his glass toward Jacob's.

Everyone lifts their glasses. "To family!"

.

..~*~..

.

Early in morning, several weeks later, Edward sits on the edge of the bed and runs his hand along Bella's arm. "Baby, wake up" he whispers.

She rolls over and looks at him with dreamy eyes. She's surprised to see him already dressed and looking so alert. "Hey. What's up?"

"I'm taking you on an adventure," he says, grinning like a little boy.

She blinks a few times and then looks out the window. "It's still dark outside," she says.

"I know," he says, laughing softly. He holds up her jeans and sweater. "Can you get dressed for me?"

"For you," she says, smiling softly as she rises. "Anything."

.

Their drive is dimly lit in the serene quiet of the early morning. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding on to her hand. She looks out the window, imagining that he's taking her to another world. Whenever she asks where they're headed, he just smiles and shakes his head. "I'm not telling," he whispers, a secret now dangling between them.

She looks into the back and peeks in the large canvas bag he's brought. "Is this breakfast?" she asks, opening up a bag and pulling out a muffin.

"Maybe," he teases. She feeds him bites of the muffin in between hers, and hums happily.

As the short stretches turn to miles and the minutes to over an hour, she's lulled back to sleep by the quiet hum of the car as it cuts through the early morning haze. She curls into her seat and dreams of floating peacefully, everything pale blue and shadowless.

She wakes to a sense of the car descending and opens her eyes to see the vision of wide ribbons of color unfurling in the distance. The patterns of color are a sharp contrast to the fields of green they are stretched across. Then before their eyes, some of the flat stripes start to slowly take shape. As they watch, Edward leads the car down a hill and into the valley, their final destination.

With one of the shapes rising toward the sky, it hits Bella. "Hot air balloons!" she says happily. "Are we going to back to Kansas or off to Oz?"

"Maybe both," he teases.

She laughs and claps her hands.

"No, actually our route today will follow along the shore and over then fields of horses. Finally, for the last part, we'll fly over the local vineyards." He smiles at her, looking particularly pleased with himself.

She marvels that he's planned all this and kept it a secret. "Are we celebrating anything in particular?"

He grins. "A year ago today an amazing woman called me and asked me to play music for her."

"Ahhh," she says, the pieces of his plan falling into place. "Amazing? As I recall, you tried to get out of it. You seemed to think that the woman was crazy."

"Well, not crazy, but a bit eccentric perhaps," he admits. "But I was intrigued enough to go play for her, wasn't I?"

Bella smiles quietly with the memory.

"I will never forget when I first caught sight of you, Mr. C. I knew I was in trouble," she says, sighing.

He pulls into a parking space and turns off the ignition. "As I was when I first saw you. Big trouble," he agrees. He runs his hand along her arm before reaching over to kiss her.

After they get out of the car, the guide waves them over. Edward steps away to settle the arrangements and Bella walks through the field, marveling at the grand helium orbs that looked so small and deflated in the distance, only to be majestic up close when fire has breathed them full of air. She senses they're alive as if they're desperate to fly, fighting the ropes that bind them to earth.

When Edward returns to her, she looks at him appreciatively. "You know I've always wanted to do this," she says.

He smiles. "Yes, you mentioned it in Italy. But even if you hadn't I would've presumed it anyway."

"Really?" she asks. "See that? You really understand who I am."

"Yes, I do. Do you remember telling me about your mom trying to help you make wings?"

"When I was little?"

He nods.

"I've always understood that you should fly." He follows the pilot into the private basket and waits as he closes himself into the partition so they have privacy. Edward then turns to face Bella and motions for her to join him.

She steps into the basket and into his arms.

The pilot does his magic until they're lifting off the ground. She looks down as they float up, watching the world below become a tiny place. Her gaze then moves up to the sky before looking into the blue infinity of his eyes.

Edward feels the thrill in his bones as they climb higher and higher. Bella's hair whips madly around her and he takes both of his hands to frame her face and tame the wildness. He gazes at her tenderly before kissing her. "I love you," he says softly. "And you love me, don't you?"

"More than anything," she says. "I honestly don't know what I did in this life to deserve you."

"Me too," he says as he wraps her tightly in his arms.

.

She holds onto him as they soar, the ocean now within sight. They may not have feathers, but despite all their obstacles they've learned how to fly.

He rubs her shoulders. "You know, Isabella, if I could have, I would've given you wings."

She looks at him, every part of her shining bright. "Oh my love, you already have…"

.

.

.

_The End._

_.  
_

* * *

_Like Bella, I hope you find your wings and never stop searching for what will bring you joy. _

_Thank you for sharing this journey with me.  
_

_xoxo _

_abbie  
_

_Join me on Twitter dot com slash abstractway and ____Facebook dot com slash abstractway_  



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